


Loki Makes a Difference

by auntieomega



Series: A Marvelish Romance [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Avenger Loki, BAMF Loki, BDSM, Bondage, Christmas Tree, Cock & Ball Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Holidays, Hospitalization, Hurt Bruce Banner, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, New Year's Eve, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Outdoor Sex, Paddling, Past Child Abuse, Rimming, Shapeshifter Loki, Shower Sex, Spanking, Strained Friendships, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntieomega/pseuds/auntieomega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newlywed Avengers Loki and Bruce couldn’t be happier…but Bruce believes Loki could be safer. To this end, he and Tony collaborate to get rid of Hulk—but nothing goes quite the way Bruce expected. When tragedy strikes, Loki discovers who his friends are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted 05/04/15
> 
> Warning: A chapter contains a scene where two characters use magic to appear like they did as teens and have vanilla sex.

Bruce woke with a chill. He drew a sharp breath and tugged the blankets over his shoulder. He closed his eyes; two seconds of blackness. He opened them to find his bedroom shrouded in morning gray. Although the dream was gone, he could feel its icy breath against his neck. He had been cold, alone. Lost.

With another cleansing breath, he turned over. The room remained gray, but he felt as if every molecule of his body were suddenly drenched in sunlight. Loki!

“Every day I wake up next to you is a gift,” Bruce whispered. He watched his husband sleep and fell in love all over again. As if he were staring at a mandala, his fears and any residual turmoil from the dream vanished, leaving nothing behind but peace, gratitude and love.

Outside, the city was already awake, a gray and bustling giant of numerous parts whirring like electron clouds. Inside the small Manhattan apartment he shared with Loki, however, the sorcerer’s even breaths dictated the day’s pace. Each languid second lasted a hundred years. The pallid light sneaking into the bedroom seemed to catch on the blind-slits as if in a spider’s web, struggling for an instant before succumbing to the hush of a sleeping god.

He couldn’t resist stroking a rogue black lock from Loki’s pale forehead. They had returned late from their camping trip—reenacting the day they had first become a couple—and fallen asleep after fucking in the shower. Loki had gone to bed with his wet hair dampening the pillow. Periodically, during the night as Bruce was trying to sleep, cold moist strands of it had attacked him. Now dry, Loki’s head was a mass of unruly raven curls on one side. Bruce knew the side pressed against the pillow would be flat and mussed with a few tendrils crisped from princely drool. Bruce thought every bit of it was beautiful.

He caressed Loki’s jaw. “Loki,” he said gently. “It’s morning. Do you want to get up?”

Loki’s eyes cracked open. He groaned and slung an arm around Bruce, pulling him close. “Not yet.”

Bruce snuggled against him and licked up the inside of his upper arm, enjoying the sweet little noise Loki made in response. He pulled back the sheet to expose Loki’s chest and admired the rosettes of areolas, puckering in the November chill. With his tongue, he outlined one, slowly, letting it react to both his touch and his breath. He stroked down Loki’s sides as he kissed his chest.

By the time Bruce turned his attention to the taut nipple at the areola’s center, Loki was hissing his name and pushing against him. Bruce fluttered his tongue tip against it and sucked, his hands smoothing up and down Loki’s flat stomach while Loki undulated and groaned softly.

Bruce gave a muffled laugh as Loki’s fingers knotted in his hair. When Loki tugged it lightly, Bruce couldn’t help the small moan that escaped through his lips. His own throbbing nipples raked across Loki’s skin as he teased Loki’s sweet little nugget between his teeth. Bruce varied the pressure of his bite; his hand rubbed Loki’s belly. Loki’s hard cock kissed his hand with a sticky lick of precum. Bruce squeezed Loki’s ripe glans and sucked hard on the nipple.

Loki moaned and hugged Bruce close. Holding Bruce by the hair, he rimmed Bruce’s ear with his tongue. “Mmmm. Sweet, sweet Bruce,” said Loki very wetly and just a touch too loud. “Kissy, kissy, kissy, k-i-s-s-s-s-y.”

Bruce giggled and buried his drooly ear in his shoulder. “Stop that!”

Loki grabbed his head with both hands. “And now for the other one!”

Bruce gripped Loki’s neck and grinned into his mischievous eyes. “You are a horrible little brat. I’m going to have to restrain you.”

“And spank me?”

“Most certainly!”

They kicked themselves loose of the tangle of sheets. Bruce cuffed Loki’s wrists to the chains at the headboard. Alert and eager, Loki watched him. But when he began kissing Loki’s stomach, Loki said, “What are you doing???”

“Kissing the world’s most beautiful tummy. Why?”

“You only did one nipple. The other’s jealous.”

Bruce looked at Loki with mock horror. “Oh, no! We can’t have a jealous nipple!” Loki sighed happily as Bruce kissed the offended nipple. “Aww,” Bruce said between licks and sucks, “the other nipple got all of the love and this one became jealous.”

“It’s very sad,” Loki whispered, as if the nipple might hear them discussing it and develop a complex.

“It’s the Loki nipple.”

Loki giggled, but then. “No. Wait. That would make the other one the Thor nipple.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that one looked very bright.”

“They’re both of genius-level intelligence.”

Bruce raised a skeptical brow. He straddled Loki and bent over the ‘Thor’ nipple. He put his ear low. “I think it wants a Poptart.”

“That’s fucked up, and you know it.”

“I thought you liked fucked up.” Bruce gave the ‘Thor’ nipple a big wet zerbert. Loki howled and kicked, his chains jangling as he pulled against the headboard. Bruce drew the ‘Loki’ nipple deep into his mouth and sucked it purple while Loki writhed and bucked beneath him.

Bruce calmed Loki down by fondling his balls. They felt so good in his hands, heavy and swollen with morning desire. He teethed on Loki’s nipple and squeezed one of Loki’s balls. Breath hissed through Loki’s teeth. Bruce sucked the nipple deep into his mouth and squeezed the ball harder. Loki moaned and bucked against him. Bruce tugged Loki’s sack and tumbled his balls lightly. Loki’s needy moan made his own cock weep.

Bruce licked his way down Loki’s body. When he reached Loki’s pulsing cock, he wrapped his lips around its shaft and mouthed up and down its impressive length. He pushed his nose into Loki’s sack and snuffed deeply. No cologne could ever smell as good as Loki’s sack. He pulled one of Loki’s balls into his mouth and mashed his lips and tongue around it. Serenaded by Loki’s moans, he worked his way to Loki’s quivering hole.

He gave Loki’s hole a delicate kiss. He played it gently with his tongue, enjoying its clean, warm taste. Loki had become perfectly still. Bruce stroked the edges of Loki’s hole with his tongue and caressed Loki’s thighs with his short nails. Loki remained motionless, but his cock bobbed up and down.

Bruce pushed his tongue deep into Loki’s hole. His nostrils were full of Loki’s balls. His hands were full of Loki’s thighs. He probed and licked and sucked Loki’s sweet pink hole until Loki began to shudder and whimper in urgent little cries. Turning his head, he worked deeper until he found that small magical gland hidden within Loki’s cave. He fluttered his tongue tip against it seductively, then stabbed it over and over.

He stopped as Loki’s cries elongated. He massaged Loki’s slender thighs. Stroking Loki’s smooth belly, he suckled a bead of precum from the slit of Loki’s glans.

He caught Loki’s head between his hands and kissed his mouth. His face close to Loki’s he said, “If I could live only one moment for the rest of my life, it would be something like this. You and me with the day waiting for us.” He stroked beneath Loki’s mouth with his thumb. “My beautiful god,” he whispered, “My beautiful lotus blossom.”

Loki smirked, caught Bruce’s thumb in his mouth and bit down hard.

Bruce cuffed Loki’s head away and squeezed his thumb. Despite the pain, he laughed. “You fucking bitch. You dented the nail!”

Loki looked quite proud of himself.

Bruce pulled another set of restraints from his nightstand. He folded Loki backward and cuffed his ankles to the headboard. Loki giggled. Bruce kissed Loki’s upended ass and tugged on his exuberant cock. He gave one of Loki’s lovely ass cheeks a good, hard swat, letting his palm linger for a few seconds, enjoying the afterglow of the impact. He spanked Loki’s ass again. The ‘smack’ vibrated in the cool air. Loki grinned and gave his ass a taunting shake.

Bruce laughed. He rubbed Loki’s blushing ass, then spanked it wildly. Loki howled with delight. His cock and balls jumped with each swat.

Bruce stopped to check Loki’s wrists and ankles. He massaged Loki’s spine, then kissed Loki’s sweet pink hole. Loki’s ass was a red blossom of spanked flesh, radiating heat. Bruce pumped some lube into his hand. Usually, he would have warmed it a little in his palm, but he thought the cool gel might feel good against Loki’s hot flesh. He lubed Loki’s hole, pushing two fingers into it, while kissing Loki’s puckered scrotum.

Loki gave a soft moan as Bruce inserted another finger. Bruce stretched him gently, slowly kissing his thigh. He played with Loki’s prostate for a while, teasing it in measured strokes, turning Loki’s cries thin and high with frustration. At last, Bruce stood on the bed and pushed his swollen cock into Loki’s ready hole.

Bruce held Loki’s upended ass and strained to keep his movements gentle. He trembled with frustrated need. Everything in him screamed—not simply for release—but brutality. He wanted to pound Loki mercilessly, wanted to bury himself in Loki’s tight hole.

But he held back, letting Loki’s body adjust, taking his time. When, at last, he felt Loki relax around him, he quickened his pace. Loki cried in soft pants, each thrust crushing the air from his lungs. The sounds drove Bruce crazy. He pushed deep into Loki’s body. Their flesh connected with each hard pound, his cock driving root deep as he bruised his pelvis on Loki’s tailbone.

Loki writhed against his restraints and pushed up against Bruce’s thrusts. His upturned face, pale as marble in moonlight, features twisted in ecstasy, was framed by a wildness of black. Struck by the sight, Bruce felt everything slip away. And hold. As if time. Ceased.

And then it all came rushing back—roaring behind his eyes, pouring out some great opening in the back of his skull—his life, all life, the universe, the multiverse, everything, everything. A wave of faintness washed over him after he finished. He eased out of Loki and freed his god’s legs, rubbing them as he sucked Loki’s beautiful cock. His stomach hitched at the sweet little sound Loki made as he jizzed in Bruce’s throat.

Bruce released Loki’s wrists and was rewarded with icy hands in his armpits. He laughed in shock and sprawled on the bed with Loki rolling on top of him. Bruce gripped the back of Loki’s head and pulled him into a deep kiss. When they separated, Loki’s eyes were soft. “I love you,” Bruce told him, as if this were news, as if he hadn’t said those three words more than a thousand times over the last year.

Loki smirked. “I love you more.” He ruffled Bruce’s hair, then lay his head on Bruce’s chest with a contented sigh.

“You’re so sweet.”

“If an oracle had told me two years ago that I could be this happy, I wouldn’t have believed it. I never even knew this much happiness existed.”

Bruce kissed the top of Loki’s head. “I feel exactly the same way.”

“When I used to see people happy like this, I hoped they were faking it.” Loki stroked Bruce’s chest. “Or I assumed they were stupid, because it’s easy for stupid people to be happy.”

Bruce laughed. “If that’s true, then I’m one of the world’s stupidest people.” He sighed against Loki’s forehead. “You make me foolish, Loki.”

Both of their phones went off. Bruce’s heart sank. Loki sprang out of bed. He checked his phone eagerly. Bruce didn’t bother. He stayed beneath the sheets and rolled onto the warm spot Loki left , wishing the morning came with a rewind feature.

Loki emerged from the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He threw Bruce’s ensorcelled underwear at him. “Choff choff” he said, mouth full of foam and toothbrush.

The trickster was so enthusiastic. He loved being an Avenger. Yet, with every mission, Bruce hated being an Avenger a little more. Specifically, he hated what he became. His integration with the Hulk continued to be erratic. Overall, his control was better than it had ever been, except where Loki was concerned. The Other Guy was fixated on Loki. Seeing Loki was like showing a dog its favorite chew toy. The intensity of the Hulk’s reaction made controlling him almost impossible.

Every time the Avengers fought, Loki was injured. His injuries rarely resulted from fighting the enemy. The culprit, nearly every time, was Bruce’s big green alter ego.

Bruce watched Loki rushing around and loved him even more. He knew Loki feared Hulk, he knew Loki had to realize by now that he was almost assuredly going to be hurt, but Loki still wanted to be an Avenger and couldn’t wait to take part in the action. Loki wanted to be a hero so much...and Bruce was ruining it for him.

Heaving a deep breath, Bruce joined Loki in getting ready. The morning that had started out with so much promise now seemed a prelude to anguish. The only thing that gave Bruce any hope was the knowledge that soon, it might all be over.

***

The skyscraper across the street from Loki collapsed as another crater opened up beneath it. The street, jammed with cars, cracked apart. People screamed as they fled their cars and rushed down the buckling sidewalks. Water sprayed from upended fire hydrants—and caught fire. Car alarms shrilled as debris slammed down on the vehicles parked along the street. Great plumes of dust billowed up from the building’s pancaking floors.

Loki watched a cloud of dust consume Steve and the women in business dress who huddled beneath his shield. Three shaleton warriors, aggressive, dagger-toothed creatures of boney rock and clay, clacked toward Captain America and the civilians struggling beneath the veil of dust.

With a whip of his wrist, Loki threw an emerald shot at the first shaleton warrior, taking out its knees. The glowing green bolt glanced off the skulls of the other two creatures. Steve gave Loki a nod of thanks as he gathered a few stunned bystanders into his troop.

Loki turned to find Clint beside him. A small girl, pasted in dust and blood, hung around the assassin’s neck. “I need to show you how to play craps when this is over,” Clint told Loki as he herded a group of panicked civilians from the wreckage.

Overhead, Iron Man flew toward the newest crater. Even over the din of the car alarms, Loki could hear the Hulk’s growls as he battled a tar sandlion, one of the subterranean monsters creating the craters. From a building on the other side, his brother yelled, “Loki! They’re coming!”

Despite the complete inadequacy of that warning, Loki looked down the street and saw what Thor meant. The three warriors Loki had vanquished were only the forerunners of a mass of shaleton warriors and energy zombies heading toward the paid parking lot where the assassin and the soldier were grouping survivors. Loki shot several ricocheting blasts into the army. Bones split and zombies splattered.

Loki covered Steve and Clint while they pulled more people from the wreckage. In a moment, Natasha was beside him, firing into the mass. When they had wiped out nearly all of the creatures in that pack, Natasha paused to call Tony. “Have you seen the priest?”

Loki new she meant a shaleton priest. The last time they had fought the Kooch brothers, the wretched pair had a shaleton priest in their employ—a summoner of evil creatures made from the bodies of long dead beasts.

And then Loki saw a tall woman in a gray business suit marching toward them, her high heels ticking on the pavement like hooves. She could have been one of the survivors, but she was immaculately clean. Natasha, still on the phone, ignored her. As Loki watched, the woman waved her hands to either side. As her hands swept up, massive shaleton warriors leapt from the exploding pavement. Both were larger than the others had been—four times Loki’s size. And they were headed straight for Natasha.

Loki pulled his sorcerer lightning around his wrists and aimed at Natasha. She glanced up as his lightning forked around her and hit the creatures on either side. Green lightning zapped around the monsters. Bones crackled. Giant teeth exploded as puffs of dust. Skulls popped open like piñatas, sand falling to the street in lieu of candy.

Together, he and Natasha watched the creatures fall, the impact of their bodies shaking the ground. Natasha smiled at Loki.

But the shaleton priestess summoned more warriors and a host of life-force-draining energy zombies from the ground. She scrambled onto the shoulders of the tallest one, then cloaked herself and the monster in flames. The flaming beast shot over the abandoned cars clogging the street.

As Loki destroyed the newly-created monsters, Natasha back-flipped onto the hood of the car behind her and leapt from car to car through the gridlock in pursuit of the shaleton priestess. Loki wanted to join her, but he stayed where he was to cover her exit. He scorched the energy zombies with Jotun blue flame from his left hand, enjoying the sound of sizzling flesh. With his right hand, he directed a blast of green sorcerer lightning at the warriors. Bones rattled and puffs of chalk joined the billowing brown dust and black smoke from the downed buildings.

As he started to follow Natasha, something caught his shoulder. Instinctively, he flinched away and called a spell, but the world moved in oily slowness. His spell fizzled out in his hand, and he moved not at all. The energy zombie, its face a mask of boils and corruption, leered at him. It held him fast. He swung on it with his dagger. Gas-spill colors flashed before his eyes. His dagger should have plunged into the creature’s neck, but it found only empty air. Loki stabbed wildly, disoriented.

Something beside him exploded like a microwaved egg with a loud ‘pop.’ As if in slow motion, a thick, wet splatter covered his armor. “Fuck,” said Loki.

He lost his breath as a big green hand crushed around him and hoisted him in the air. “Put me down,” Loki demanded. The energy zombie’s draining effects were beginning to wear off. He had almost caught up with time, but not quite. Everything was still just a little off.

Hulk made a sort of hooting noise and scrubbed Loki up and down his thigh, smearing zombie gore on his pants. He held Loki up and examined him. Loki pointed at the ground commandingly. “Put me—”

Words and breath left him as he smacked against Hulk’s chest.

***

Hulk clutched Loki to his chest. Into the roiling darkness of rage and pain that was his inner world—that infinite tempest, that constant gloom—there shone a ray of glorious light. Loki!

His blood hummed in his ears like _The Hallelujah Chorus_. He held the god next to his heart. It felt like holding a grain of sunlight. This was so pure, so perfect. This was why the dervishes danced, why the cantors chanted, why the priests prayed. This—the green bud springing from the decay. Hope. Joy. Love.

Loki!

He pulled Loki back to gaze upon him. Loki looked scared. Poor Loki. Loki always looked kinda scared. Hulk crushed Loki to his chest again and heaved a sigh. He wished he could split his heart open and let Loki live there.

For a single, beautiful instant, the world was a blur of starlight, rainbows, kittens and puppies. Loki!

Hulk snarled. He could feel weak, stupid Bruce clawing at the edges of his consciousness. It wasn’t fair. Bruce had Loki ninety-nine percent of the time and still begrudged Hulk his feeble, precious one percent. Hulk wadded up the greedy scientist, stuffed him into a little metal Star Wars lunch box, and drop-kicked him over a mental cliff. “Hulk smash!”

In his triumph, he felt something small. Something squirming against him. Loki!

 _The Hallelujah Chorus_ exploded from Hulk’s every pore. Hulk peeled Loki off his chest and smiled at him. Loki looked scared. Poor Loki. Don’t worry, Loki; Hulk will save ya!

He noticed Loki still had zombie goo on him. Ick. Seeing something ugly like that befouling his beautiful Loki made Hulk angry. Thinking about how the horrid creature had dared to hurt his best beloved made Hulk angrier. “Hulk SMASH!” he bellowed.

He wiped Loki on his pants again, trying to get the evil shit off poor Loki. “Dirty,” he murmured. “Loki so dirty.”

Loki whimpered. Hulk held Loki against his chest, heartbroken that Loki should ever be afraid. Hulk would protect Loki. He tried to reassure the puny god. “Hulk strongest one there is!”

He could feel Bruce pushing forward with the pious outrage of a horde of villagers brandishing torches and pitchforks. The nerve of some people! He plucked Bruce up by his fucking-know-it-all head and whipped him into one of the fields of lavender that bloomed in the mind he shared with his Loki-monopolizing scientist.

The ground shook. Not the mental landscape where Hulk had thrown Bruce, but the actual ground beneath Hulk’s feet. Cracks fractured the asphalt around him. A crater formed as if from nowhere. Earth and concrete fell away into the crater as a giant claw-headed monster erupted from the crater’s center.

Hulk roared at the tar sandlion. Could he ever have a nice moment with Loki?

Loki pushed away from Hulk’s chest. Green lightning glittered around his hands. Loki made so many pretty things. Hulk wanted to watch Loki weave his lovely lights, but he had to keep Loki safe. He threw Loki like a discus and paused a second to watch him sail away. He watched the entirety of his love become a mote in the distance. Hope. Joy. Love.

Gone.

Thunderous night descended again. Shadows and rage filled every empty space. He turned on the monster with nearly forty years of hatred and almost ten seconds of furious grief burning inside him. The monsters always tore him from the things he loved.

He jumped into the crater as the ground beneath him gave way.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Loki stayed airborne for what seemed a long time, then crashed into something large and solid. A bridge soared over his head. Apparently, he had hit one of the pillars at the foot of a bridge.

He lay still for a second, then tried to lift himself up, fighting against the profound heaviness of his body. He thought he was getting up, but he realized suddenly that he was down again, lying with his cheek against the cold ground. His body felt numb and filled with sand, but the grit digging into his cheek stung.

“Loki? Are you okay?” He recognized Steve’s voice.

“I scratched my cheek,” said Loki, more faintly than he intended.

Steve laughed. “Bruce is right—you are funny, aren’t you?”

Loki drew more air into his lungs and noticed new pains blooming throughout his body. He pushed himself off the ground with renewed determination. This time, he succeeded. As he pulled his knees beneath him, his breath caught.

“Here, I’ll give you a hand,” said Steve, helping him the rest of the way up.

Loki brought up a map on the back of his hand. “Natasha was going after the priestess.” He frowned around them, then checked his map. “It looks like we can catch them if we head north….”

Steve pointed to the red dot moving on Loki’s map. “Iron Man’s already with her. And there’s Clint and Thor. Hulk’s on the way.”

Loki pointed to the dark green triangle and the blue dot next to it. “And there’s us.” He limped forward. “On the way, as well.”

Steve laughed. He stopped as Loki kept walking up the incline to the park area near the foot of the bridge. “You’re serious. No, soldier. You’re done for the day. Cop a squat and wait for the others.”

“The shaleton priestesses possess a dark magic. I can feel it. I understand magic better than any of us. I should be there. The others don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

“This is only one priestess,” said Steve. “I’m sure we’ll see more of them until we apprehend the Kooch Brothers. You’ll get more chances to get your licks in.”

“It’s not just about getting a piece of the action. I should be there. What if someone’s injured? Or worse? I need to be with my team.” As he started off again, a pain made him hunch over and grimace.

Steve put an arm around his waist. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” said Loki, managing a slight eye roll. “I probably just ruptured one of my spleens.”

“Uh…okay.” He guided Loki to a nearby bench. “Let’s sit here, okay?” 

Loki sank to the bench. He turned to Captain America suddenly. “You can’t stay with me! It’s bad enough that I’m not there.”

“You seem to be in bad shape. You need someone with you.”

Loki brought up his map and frowned at the moving blips.

“They’ll be alright,” Steve assured him, his voice soft.

Loki stroked the light green circle with a fingernail. “Lummox. He was trying to save me.”

“He _did_ save you from that energy zombie. That thing was all over you. I saw it happen. Hulk got there before me.”

Loki stared at the map. “If anything happens….”

“It won’t. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be your fault.” Steve swallowed. “It would feel like it. It might feel like it for a long time. But…the blame would belong to the criminals who killed them.”

“That’s not how it would feel.”

“No. But we can’t be everywhere. And no one can be responsible for everything. That’s not how the world works.” Steve was quiet for a second, then said with forced cheer, “But we don’t need to worry about that. They’re going to be okay, and so will you.”

“I’m fine,” Loki insisted drowsily.

Steve tapped Loki’s cheek. “Talk to me, Loki. How’s that chicken of yours? What’s her name again?”

“Daenerys. She’s fine.” Loki leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder. “She’s a good chicken….”

“Uh-huh. Let’s look at your map again.”

Sitting up with effort, Loki brought up the map. He frowned at the colored markers.

Steve peered over Loki’s shoulder. “Where’s Bruce?”

“Nowhere.” Loki pointed to the light green blip with a derisive snort. “That’s Hulk. They’re still fighting. If Bruce were there, he’d show up as a pink triangle.”

“Did you know Hitler required gays to wear pink triangles to identify them as gay?”

“Yes,” said Loki. “It was a symbol of persecution, but my community has reclaimed it. That’s why I gave it to Bruce on my map. I’m surprised you knew about that.”

“That was my war. I didn’t know everything about it then, but I like to read about it now. It’s strange to read about history when you’ve been there.”

Loki cocked his head, surprised. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

“You always find out things you didn’t know. History’s interesting. Especially if you look for sources from different perspectives.” Steve sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Actually, you can learn a lot from fiction too. Have you ever heard of Kurt Vonnegut? He served in the war—World War II—like me. He wrote a book called _Slaughterhouse Five_. It’s really good. I hadn’t heard about how the Allies firebombed the city of Dresden, killing thousands of civilians and refugees—until I read that. It’s easy to imagine your side is always just and good while the other is pure evil, but....” He shrugged. “Things can seem simple, but, usually, they’re not.”

“Midgardians are complicated, so situations involving them are as well.” 

“It’s a good book, anyway. You might like it.”

“I’ll look for it,” said Loki, intrigued. He still hurt, but he was no longer sleepy. The strangeness of having a real conversation with Steve excited him. “I like fiction—and I’m fascinated by Midgardian history.”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in…Midgardian history.” Steve smiled. “Somehow, I thought all you were into was sex and hocus pocus.”

“Those are my favorites,” Loki admitted wryly, “but I have many interests.”

“I guess you learn things every day. This is the first time I’ve realized how dedicated you are to the team and completing the mission. You’re a top-notch guy, Loki.”

Loki grinned. “And I gravely underestimated your intelligence.”

***

Bruce woke as if from a twilight sleep. Great chunks of concrete spiked with twisted rebar lay piled around him—he was imprisoned by destruction. Car alarms and sirens filled the air. Chaos. He always woke in chaos, bare-skinned and fragile, surrounded by the unfamiliar, feeling drained from some battle whose memory hid and resurfaced in his mind like a movie watched during a stoned fugue—the images blurred, half the dialogue absent, arcs and nuances lost to physical sensations and emotional detachment.

He climbed out of the rubble like a coelacanth crawling onto shore. His foothold on a snake of rebar slipped. He slid three feet down rough concrete before catching a handhold in a crack. He felt like he had ground off his right nipple and a layer of skin from his ribs. A cursory exam proved otherwise—just an annoying scrape. He wiped his hand on his gray boxer briefs.

Touching the fabric brought a smile to his face. Their first Yule together, Loki had given him several pairs of underwear, magically altered to grow and shrink with his Hulk turns. Loki….

“You always smile when you touch yourself?”

Bruce startled and lost his hold. He scrambled and fell, but Iron Man caught him midway and flew him out of the rubble. Bruce kept one foot up as his friend deposited him on the street. Balancing easily, he pulled a shard of glass from the sole of his foot. He remained standing on one leg while he applied pressure to the laceration. He grinned at Iron Man. “In case you were wondering, this yoga pose is called ‘The Half Lotus.’ Technically, it’s a variation—‘The Half Lotus Ouch.’”

The face shield lifted. “You realize you’re cleaning your blood off the suit, right?”

“Sorry about that. He left me in a punji pit this time.” Bruce dusted the grit from his scraped side. “I swear he does shit like that on purpose.”

A panel opened on the side of the suit. Iron Man extracted a pair of black rubber boots from it and flung them at Bruce.

Bruce caught one, but the other nailed him in the chest. “Ow.” He only sighed, however, when his med kit bounced off his head. “Than—” A silver emergency blanket shot out of the suit as if from a tee shirt cannon and whisked around Bruce’s head before floating down and covering it entirely. Bruce lifted his silver veil to smirk at his friend. “Thanks.”

“Now, how awesome am I?” asked Tony, hand on hip.

Bruce, the blanket around his shoulders, pulled on the boots. “Obviously, that’s a trick question. You’re always awesome.”

“They’re right,” said Tony, “your intelligence can’t be measured by any test known to man.”

Bruce snorted. “Last week, you said that was because none of the tests scored negative numbers.”

“That was because you cheated at chess.”

“No, I simply beat you.”

“You never beat me,” said Tony. “Either I win or you cheat.”

“I never cheat.”

“You also lie.”

“These fit,” said Bruce, impressed. “Pepper?”

Tony gave a slight shrug. “JARVIS.”

Bruce grinned, tying the emergency blanket around his neck like a cape. “Tell JARVIS ‘thanks’.”

“Hold still. I’m getting a picture. This is a great look.” He showed it to Bruce.

“That’s terrifying.”

Tony looked at it, appraising. “Yeah, but you look good, though. You’re in great shape for you.”

“You’re the king of the left-handed compliment.”

“It’s a real compliment. You kind of let yourself go there for a little while—I didn’t want to say anything—”

“I think you should probably shut up now.”

“But you’ve really turned it around. Did you start actually working out instead of doing yoga and baking?”

Bruce shrugged. “I’m doing what I’ve always done—I just stepped it up because I wanted to make sure I was in the best shape possible for the Sarcophagus Project.”

The project’s rather morbid name came from the tomblike appearance of the device he and Tony had built to extract Hulk’s DNA from Bruce’s body. Bruce smiled guiltily. “I slacked off for a while after Loki and I got together. He eats all the time and doesn’t gain a pound. I’ve had to learn not to eat every time he does. And I’ve had to carve out time for exercise and not try to kid myself into thinking that sex and eating ice cream afterward somehow counts as a workout.”

“Whatever, dude. You don’t need to be a girl about it.” Tony frowned as he drew something on his phone.

Bruce tried not to say anything, but he couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing? Tell me you’re not doing something with that picture.”

“I’ve been trying to write a graphic novel. I think this is the perfect character.” He showed the screen to Bruce. He had written ‘Public School Science Man’ across the top of the picture he had just taken.

“Yeah. That certainly looks like a graphic representation of what they’re doing to science in public schools these days.” Bruce snorted. “Battered and stripped bare.”

“Fuck!” said Tony—a cry of inspiration. “We can fix that!”

Bruce grinned at him. “I’m right there. Let’s do it.”

“New project.” Tony practically glowed. “Let’s start on the plane. We’ll have to research deficiencies, assess needs—I used to hire people for this.” His eyes sparkled. “Now it’s my favorite part.”

“Who needs a plane? We can start now.”

“We’ve already started, Captain Underpants. That picture’s going on the website as soon as we have one.”

Bruce pulled the emergency blanket around him. “No, but send one to Loki. He’ll like it.”

Tony arched a brow. “He won’t see anything wrong with it. He’ll want you to dress like that all the time.”

“It is similar to something I wore at Folsom.” A memory rushed through him. The chill of fear it provoked raised every hair on his body. “Loki! Have you seen Loki?!”

“He’s over by the bridge with Steve.”

“The Other Guy threw him!”

“He’s okay.”

But Bruce was already running to the bridge.

***

Bruce knelt beside Loki amid the debris. He smoothed his thumb down the arc of the sorcerer’s brow. “How are you doing, baby?”

“I’m fine,” said Loki.

Bruce could almost feel when Loki lied to him. He caressed Loki’s cheek, careful to avoid touching the fresh red bruises. “My poor, sweet Loki. You haven’t healed your superficial wounds. I know you’re injured elsewhere.”

“I’m fine,” Loki repeated, grinding the words between his teeth. His eyes darted to Captain America, standing over them, then tagged Bruce meaningfully. He didn’t like seeming weak in front of his teammates. For the moment, Bruce’s attentions were unwelcome.

Steve stepped closer to Bruce. “He told me he thought he ruptured…one of his…uh…spleens.”

Loki glared at Steve and flinched away as Bruce tried to examine him. “Stupid, fucking Bruce! Nothing’s wrong with me—and Hulk didn’t do it!” 

Bruce ignored him, sliding a hand beneath Loki’s armor. He felt for anything swollen or out of place. “If you keep your wounds hidden, I can’t help you heal them.”

“I SAID I’m fine.” Loki grimaced in pain and shoved him backward.

Steve kept Bruce from falling on his butt. Bruce glanced a thank you at him. He looked at Loki. The stubborn sorcerer’s eyes were glazed with pain. Bruce tried to manage his anger. “Fucking Hulk.” The only thing more horrible than turning into a monster was that monster hurting the person he loved most in the world—and hurting him repeatedly.

“It wasn’t his fault—it was mine,” said Loki swiftly, unwittingly sounding like something from a public service announcement about domestic violence.

“Don’t defend him,” Bruce said, feeling sick. He loaded the syringe. If Loki wasn’t hurt too badly, deadening his pain would allow him to heal himself with magic.

“He seemed like he was trying to hurl Loki out of harm’s way,” said Steve. “He didn’t attack him.”

Bruce looked up at Steve in exasperation. “So if he did this to someone you loved, you’d want to give him a medal?”

“No, but—”

“Don’t snap at him,” said Loki. “Steve helped me. He’s done absolutely nothing to earn your ire.”

Bruce cringed inwardly. How insensitive was he being if Loki was giving him congeniality lessons? “Shit, Steve, I’m sorry.” He took Loki’s hand and straightened his arm. “Small stick,” he told Loki in spite of the fact that they had done this numerous times since Loki joined the Avengers. He rubbed the injection site with his thumb, staring into Loki’s eyes, waiting for his pupils to pin.

He held Loki’s hand as the pain-killer took effect, kept holding it as Loki’s healing spell repaired tissues in a miraculous burst of energy that Bruce could feel crackle against his skin. A chill swept through him. He felt guilty that he enjoyed Loki’s healing spells, but he did. With a flash of his magic, Loki could make the greatest miracles of modern medicine look as quaint as medieval leeches. His powers thrilled Bruce…and thrilled him all over. A shudder ran beneath Bruce’s skin as blood roared into his cock.

“That’s a neat trick, Loki,” said Steve.

“It is,” said Loki with a wicked little smile, eyes locked on Bruce’s.

Bruce strained to think of some polite way of telling Steve to give them some privacy.

“Bugger off now, Steve,” said Loki pleasantly. “Bruce and I are going to get our fuck on.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Good to know you’re feeling better.”

As soon as Steve turned his back, Bruce pulled Loki down toward the shoreline where the bank would afford them a modicum of privacy. He pushed Loki against one of the cement braces and fucked him standing up, their hands entwined.

Loki, chest against the cement, huffed with each impact. And then he began to moan with pleasure in little staccato bursts. No music could have been sweeter to Bruce’s ears.

They came as one beast, then kissed each other tenderly until Natasha called from atop the bank, “Finish up, guys! We’re heading out!”

  



	3. Chapter 3

Tony swung an arm over the empty seat beside him and looked back with a frown. Bruce and Loki were another row back. Reindeer Games was practically in Bruce’s lap. It was fucking disgusting. Not because it was gay—and it couldn’t have been any fucking gayer—but because Bruce was so fucking ridiculous about that annoying, ball-breaking little asshole he had very stupidly married. In the few months since the god of lies had charmed Bruce into legally chaining their asses together, Loki’s treatment of Bruce had gone from abysmal to complete and utter shit. And Bruce sucked it up like a complete pussy.

As if that weren't bad enough, Bruce—who was usually so considerate—kept giving priority to his puny god over his friends—even Tony. And that was just wrong.

The others joked that Tony and Bruce were brothers. They had no idea. He and Bruce had been friends a long time. When they were younger, they had shared the kinds of secrets one only trusts with a best friend. They were there for each other when no one else would have dared. They had broken contact while Bruce was in hiding. Because governments tend to look harshly on those whom have aided and abetted high level fugitives, they had pretended not to know each other when S.H.I.E.L.D. reunited them.

The Avengers had allowed them to be friends again. It had been awesome. And then Bruce wanted to rehabilitate Loki, which was apparently Bruce code for fuck him. Tony hadn't thought that was so bad. He even expected Bruce to be stupid about his Jotun cockwarmer. Bruce always fell hard. He was as goofy as a thirteen year old girl when it came to relationships. Fine. But once they were hitched, wasn't it time to stop carrying Loki's fucking purse?

Whenever Bruce was with Loki, it was like nothing else existed. Bruce didn’t even notice Tony looking at them. Not even when Tony snorted importantly. It was as if Bruce’s entire world were contained within that single creature.

It was fucking nauseating.

The scent of citrus turned Tony's head. Across the aisle, Thor was peeling a large orange. On impulse, Tony grabbed it from him and beaned Bruce. It made a nice solid thump as it smacked against his head. 

“Fucker!” Bruce glared at Tony, holding the side of his head.

Natasha shot out of her seat to scold Tony. “Are you out of your mind?!”

Tony ignored her. He grinned at Bruce. “Your control’s gotten even better, huh?”

Bruce didn’t look like he found that observation brilliant or humorous.

“He flashed,” said Natasha. “You made his eyes flash.”

“They didn’t flash,” said Tony and Bruce, almost in unison. They smirked at each other.

“They fucking flashed,” said Natasha. “On our plane. In the air. In the fucking air, Tony.”

“Can I have my orange back?” asked Thor.

“No,” said Loki, removing more of the peel. “ _Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungallèd play. For some must watch while some must sleep. So runs the world away._ ” He took a big bite of orange.

“Losers weepers, more or less,” Bruce answered Clint’s nonplussed look. To Steve he said, “He’s been on kind of a Shakespeare kick lately.” He flinched a little as Loki rubbed his head. “Baby, you’re getting orange juice in my hair.”

“I’m hungry,” Thor said in a small voice.

“Aw,” said Bruce. “Would you like some kale chips?”

Tony frowned at Bruce. “I guess you don’t give a shit about science in public schools?”

“What do they smell like?” asked Thor.

Bruce shrugged at Thor. “Earthy? They’re quite pleasant.”

“You won’t like them,” said Loki, stuffing the bag behind him. “You can’t have any.”

Tony couldn’t believe it; he was being ignored. “You really DON’T give a shit, do you?”

Bruce stared at Tony. Finally. “Of course I do. I forgot, that’s all. Loki was hurt.”

“Loki gets hurt every time we go out,” said Tony. “It wouldn’t be an Avengers battle if Loki didn’t get fucked up somehow.”

“Hey!” said Loki, mouth full of orange.

“That isn’t fair,” said Bruce, “and you know it.”

“If I agree, can I have some of those kale chips?” Thor asked Bruce.

“No,” said Loki, lips dripping juice.

“Thor, you can have some no matter what your opinion is,” sighed Bruce.

Natasha threw a package of beet chips at Thor with a scowl. “Stop whining.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Tony. “You’d rather sit back there with Loki, who you can see any time you like, than save science in public schools with me. That’s fine. I have no problem with that.”

“Wait a sec,” said Clint, grinning. “Is this a bro fight?”

“No,” said Tony and Bruce, again in unison. This time, neither of them smiled.

“Bruce just doesn’t care,” said Tony. “That’s all. Unless it’s concerning a stunted frost giant, he doesn’t give a fuck.”

Loki arched his fingers.

“NO!” said Steve, coming up out of his seat a little. “No magic in the plane!”

Loki lobbed half an orange at Tony and smacked him wetly in the forehead. Tony wadded up the orange and nailed Bruce in the mouth.

“That was mine,” said Thor miserably.

“Thor, heads up.” Bruce threw the squished orange half at him. It caught Clint in the head.

“Fuck, Bruce,” said Clint. “You throw like a—”

“Like a what?” Natasha stared at him coldly.

“Like…a scientist.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce actually sounded offended.

“One would think a physicist would have better aim,” said Clint. “That’s all.”

Bruce gave an irritable snort. “The weight distribution is uneven. It’s all drippy and malformed. It’s not like throwing a perfect sphere. There are too many variables…. You try it.”

Clint grinned and tossed the orange—or what was left of it—at Bruce.

“That was mine,” said Thor plaintively, watching it sail through the air back to the other end of the plane.

Loki intercepted it and ate it in one gulp.

“Enough!” cried Steve. “Stop throwing things! And no hulking! And no—” He pointed at Tony. “Whatever it is you're doing!”

“It’s called being an asshole,” said Loki.

Natasha giggled into Clint’s shoulder.

“I’m serious,” said Steve. “This isn’t the way a team operates. Remember why we’re out here and stop acting like children.”

Tony settled back in his seat with a disgusted sigh. He didn’t like getting Steve’s panties in a twist. He leaned his head against the side of the plane and shut his eyes. Behind him, Loki tittered annoyingly.

“I’m all sweaty,” Bruce said in a hushed voice. “Don’t do that.”

“But I like sucking the salt out of your lovely chest hair.”

Tony stood up. “Where are the barf bags?”

Steve waved him down. Steve looked around to address Loki and Bruce. “Guys, come on. We all support your relationship and love and whatever, but enough is enough.” He faced forward, then turned around again. “And while we’re on the subject—Bruce, would it kill you to put on some clothes?”

“I have a blanket,” said Bruce.

“Do you still have those kale chips?” asked Thor.

“Mine!” Loki scowled and crushed the chips behind his back.

Bruce ignored him. “What about pumpkin seeds?” He pulled a small plastic container out of his backpack. Thor held his hands out. Bruce threw the container at him. Thor caught it with a smile.

Steve stared at Bruce. “You have pumpkin seeds in there, but you didn’t think to bring any pants?”

“I have a blanket,” said Bruce, a touch more chagrined than the first time. Steve rolled his eyes and turned away.

“And a fucking sweater of lovely chest hair,” said Tony. He grinned as Bruce had a giggle fit behind him.

“That’s enough,” said Steve. “Let’s have some quiet. Reflect on the battle and what we’ve accomplished.”

Tony peered back over his seat. “A salty sweater,” he whispered.

Bruce hung his head, snickering. He glanced up, making eye contact. By some miracle, he ignored Loki’s peeved expression and leaned toward Tony. “Tomorrow at three—your place. We’ll lay the groundwork for the public schools project. And we’ll run a few more simulations with the Sarcophagus.” His gaze darted to Loki for a second before locking on Tony. “We should perform the experiment soon.”

***

Bruce fought a cringe at the raised voices coming from Laboratory Three in Stark Tower. Pepper stood outside the door as if guarding it. “Don’t go in there, Bruce. Let them work it out.”

“I only left them for a few minutes,” he told her. “I had to get something from Lab Five. I couldn’t have been gone more than five minutes.”

“This isn’t your fault.” She smoothed a hand down his arm as if soothing a skittish horse.

Her kindness always impressed him. The woman was as compassionate as she was elegant. Tony was a lucky man. He was also a fucking bastard. Bruce forced a polite smile. “I’m sorry. I hate it when they do this.”

“I know,” said Pepper, leading him to the sitting area outside Laboratory Three. She handed him a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and sat on the sleek white divan in front of the wall fountain.

Bruce stood beside a mocha chair, too tense to sit. Even the sound of the fountain behind Pepper couldn’t calm him. If it weren’t terrible enough that his best friend and best beloved were fighting, he found himself alone in Pepper’s company. He stared at his shoes.

“Is it possible we haven’t talked by ourselves since you moved out?” asked Pepper.

“Or maybe before.” He faced the music. “I should have talked to you about it long ago. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how—”

Pepper laughed. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bruce smiled at her. “I know, but I’m sure it looked—”

“It looked like platonic cuddling. It’s sweet that you two can comfort each other like that. Weird, but sweet.” She shrugged. “He had problems after the Battle of New York.”

Bruce stroked his wine glass, staring at it and wishing human relationships were as simple as physics. “He was comforted enough by you. I was the lost one. He pitied me. There was nothing lacking in your relationship.”

“I had a friend growing up that I snuggled with. It’s okay.” Pepper smiled. “And I thought that even before I heard about how it all started. You never had to move out.”

Bruce sighed. “I did. It seemed awkward. And living by myself made it possible for Loki and I to be alone together. I doubt Tony would have been okay with him living here.” He stared at the lab unhappily as Tony and Loki continued to argue. “Sometimes, I’m not sure he’s okay with Loki visiting.”

“He’s fine with Loki visiting, he’s just not okay with anyone having an opinion different from his.”

Bruce shook his head. “I feel like such an idiot. I keep thinking if I can get them to work together on something, they’ll like each other.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “They should get along. They’re alike in many ways.”

“They’re alike in all the wrong places,” said Pepper.

He sighed. “Right. For instance, I imagine on the Big Five personality traits test, they’d both score pretty low on Agreeableness.”

Pepper laughed. “We give a variation of that test to potential employees. Loki and Tony would definitely be on the low pole of that one. They both value their self-interests above cooperation and getting along.” She smiled at Bruce. “We, on the other hand….”

“The agreeable ones.” Bruce smirked. “We need jackets. And maybe a union.”

“The care and feeding of arrogant man-babies _is_ a full time job.”

“Loki isn’t arrogant,” said Bruce.

Pepper flashed him a bemused smile. “No?”

“He’s insecure and hiding behind a mask of superiority.” Bruce stared at his wine with a twinge of anger. “He should be elevated, not put down. If he tries to put himself on a pedestal, it’s only because he has every right to be there.”

Pepper blinked at him. “Tony’s right. You’re wrapped around Loki’s finger aren’t you?” She grinned. “Although Tony doesn’t say finger.”

Bruce tried to change the subject. “This cab’s lovely. It’s like drinking an Italian summer.”

“Those idiotic fucking songs, then. You can’t possibly defend all those idiotic fucking songs!” Tony yelled from within the lab. “Books don’t need fucking songs! They’re books! Books are books because they’re books, Reindeer Games! Fucking books!”

“Once the tautology starts, it’s all over.” Bruce sighed. “I should go in there.”

“What are you going to do? Give them their binkies and put them down for their naps?”

Bruce chuckled into his wine glass. “God, they _are_ like toddlers.” He winced as Loki’s voice echoed off the walls of the lab.

Pepper twiddled the end of her ponytail. “Loki’s reciting verses. That’s not a good sign.”

Bruce watched the water dance down the wall of obsidian and opal stones behind Pepper. “I love Tony, but he’s really being kind of a dick. He doesn’t like Tolkien. Fine. But bagging on him is akin to heresy to Loki. Loki is deeply emotionally invested in that fandom.”

Pepper smiled sympathetically. “I know. A polite person would realize that and let it alone. But, you know, he’s Tony.”

A loud crash made them discard their wine glasses and rush to the lab. Bruce threw open the doors, wondering if he should unleash the Other Guy. But Pepper balled her fists at her sides and screamed, “KNOCK THIS SHIT OFF—NOW!!!”

Tony and Loki, each holding large pieces of scrap metal stared at her in shocked silence. Bruce glared at them. “What she said.” He grinned at Pepper. “That was pretty awesome. I had no idea you could produce that kind of volume.”

She flashed him a smile. Tony started to open his mouth. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Before he could try again, Bruce said, “We’ll get out of your way now.”

“We didn’t even get a chance to talk by ourselves,” Tony said to Bruce, sounding exasperated. “We have important—”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Bruce promised.

“I haven’t finished making my point,” said Loki.

Bruce took the scrap metal from his hands and sat it on a nearby table. “Live to fight another day, baby.” He took Loki’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Loki pulled his arm away with a scowl. “I am not a coward!”

“Jesus motherfucking Christ on toast,” said Tony. “Nobody called you a coward. I’m calling you a fucking oversensitive reindeer with a yeast infection—”

“Stop,” said Bruce, eyes on Tony and a hand splayed on Loki’s chest. “Playtime’s over.”

Loki’s chest expanded. “But—”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Bruce whispered, sliding his hand down Loki’s torso. He pushed Loki out the door. Over his shoulder to Tony, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Alone.”

Tony watched him with a look of revulsion and disappointment, while beside Bruce, Loki continued to bristle. Bruce sighed.

***

_A few days later_

A crack of thunder exploded in Bruce’s skull. Excruciating pain fanned throughout his body. Fireflies danced behind his eyes. He tried to breathe. Cold filled him. Cold and darkness.

Light dazzled his eyes as the Sarcophagus opened. “Goddamnit, Bruce. If you die here, it’ll lower the property value.”

Bruce tried to help Tony pull him out of the device, but his body felt as if it were made of cooked spaghetti. He gagged. Tony flipped him around so he could vomit in the Sarcophagus. “You’re cleaning that, by the way.”

Tony plopped him on the floor and frowned at him. “This is shock, isn’t it?” He grabbed a stack of pillows from one of the lab chairs and stuffed them under Bruce’s feet. The next instant, he bundled Bruce in a silver emergency blanket. “There you are, Jiffy Pop.”

Bruce closed his eyes, appreciating the heat the blanket provided. Anyone who scoffed at those blankets had never felt the pure bliss of being warmed by one while in shock. He sank into the warmth and blackness.

He walked through a forest. Beams of sunlight slanted through the leaves. He saw a tiger made of fire lying upon a great mossy stone. He knew the tiger. He wasn’t sure how. It stared at him with eyes of glowing jade and said—

“C’mon, Benji, you fucking asshole.”

Bruce blinked awake. Tony frowned over him. Benji—Tony’s first nickname for him because he looked like a sad-eyed dog with fucked up hair. Tony fastened an oxygen mask on him. That was nice. Nice Tony. He was muttering something. Probably something nice. “—you moronic piece of shit….”

The tiger wanted to tell Bruce something. The forest was so full of shadows. He hadn’t noticed before. The contrast between the light and dark—like bars—like stripes—beautiful.

Something jabbed his arm. He stared blearily at Tony and watched him insert a long IV needle into an arm that Bruce only knew was his because he could feel Tony sliding the needle around. As Tony began to tape the IV port down, he caught Bruce watching him and frowned. “This is supposed to be your job. You physicists are just idea people; you make engineers do all of the real work.” Despite Tony’s casual voice, his face looked tense.

The tiger, its body an artwork of mesmerizing flames, left its stone altar with an elegant leap and strode toward Bruce slowly. He waited for it to come to him. Shouldn’t he have been afraid? Weren’t people usually afraid of tigers?

He stared into Tony’s face. “Don’t do this to me,” Tony whispered thickly.

Bruce left the tiger to its realm and focused on returning to wakefulness in this one. He tried to speak as Tony checked his pulse. He rasped wordlessly. Tony laid a hand atop Bruce’s chest and looked down at him. “I don’t know what to do now,” he said frankly. “You should either be out of the woods or dead—not whatever the fuck this is. People are such shitty machines…. Should I use the norepinephrine?”

Bruce strained to speak. “Data,” he managed.

Tony stared at him. “What?”

“What about the data?”

A huge smile grew on Tony’s face. He lay on the floor next to Bruce and hugged him. They stayed there for what felt like a long time. Bruce worried about the experiment’s results, but he felt like Tony might have needed the physical contact. Helping your best friend nearly kill himself was probably not the easiest thing to do, and, while they had prepared an emergency response kit for Bruce, they had given no thought as to how to ease Tony’s stress. He waited for Tony to be ready to assess the data.

Finally, Tony sat up. “Are you tired of slacking and ready to find out what we did?”

“I’m ready.” Bruce freed himself from the pillows and blanket, discarded the oxygen mask and pulled out the IV. A wave of dizziness made him hold to a table and pause, taking a few deep breaths, before dressing. By the time he had clothed himself, Tony was already at the interactive three-dimensional display, frowning and swiping. Bruce walked shakily to his station and started drawing blood samples.

Tony looked over at him. “You’re going straight to the goddamned blood samples aren’t you? Don’t forget to take your vitals. We need those too.” He returned to his work, muttering. “Fucking dork.”

Bruce sighed. Tony was right. This wasn’t the time to get ahead of oneself. This wasn’t the time to get sloppy. He ran all of his tests, then ran them again. At last, he pushed back from the desk with a sigh. “Everything looks good.” He fought the excitement fluttering in his stomach.

Tony glanced at him. “Your vitals are good? You’re okay?”

Bruce frowned apprehensively at the screen, afraid for a moment that the numbers had changed behind his back. “Everything is within normal range.” He left his station, walked up behind Tony, and looked over his shoulder. “How are things on your end?”

“The energy fields have stabilized.” Still absorbed in his interactive three-dimensional display, Tony swiped to a new field of data.

“Look at that DNA sequence,” Bruce whispered.

Tony swung around and punched him in the face. Bruce staggered sideways, knocking against a table. Hardware jumped on the table’s surface in a metallic dance. The room swayed, but Bruce’s hold on the table kept him upright. “What the f—uff.” He doubled over in pained confusion. He hadn’t expected the gut punch any more than the first blow. Hulk welled up beneath his skin.

Tony’s knee slammed into Bruce’s stomach. Bruce groaned and coughed up spittle. Anger flashed through his body like lightning. Hulk slapped Bruce beneath a wave of pain and rage.

  



	4. Chapter 4

Still hunched over and struggling for air, Hulk drove his shoulder beneath Tony’s ribcage and shoved him backward into a robotic arm assembly. He snarled as his knuckles skidded across Tony’s face—grazing the moving target rather than smashing it. Tony grabbed his arm. Hulk swung on Tony with the other one. He knocked Tony’s head sideways and dove on top of him.

Hulk and Tony wrestled wildly on the ground. Somehow, Tony managed to roll his way on top. Straddling Hulk’s chest, Tony held Hulk’s forearms.

Tony smirked and popped Hulk’s face lightly with one of his own hands. “Why do you hate yourself?”

Hulk growled, enraged, and flipped Tony over, trapping the inventor beneath him. But somehow Tony still held Hulk’s wrists. Tony flopped Hulk’s hands in front of Hulk’s face.

But they weren’t Hulk’s hands. They were Bruce’s. Bruce-Hulk blinked in angry dismay.

Tony wriggled Bruce’s hands about. “C’mon, Bruce. Any fucking day now.”

***

Bruce assumed control, then started laughing. The physical Hulk was gone—only the shadow personality, an artifact of Bruce’s childhood, remained within his mind. “It worked. Fucking hell. It worked!” He wrapped his arms around Tony and bear-hugged him. “It fucking worked!”

Tony laughed and hugged him back. They picked themselves off the floor, helping each other up. “All the data checks out,” said Tony, “and you looked fucking pissed.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Um, yeah. ‘Fucking pissed’ about covers it.”

“I remember a time before the radiation accident when you used to take a punch better than that.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t taken one as all me in Bruce form in a long time.” Bruce held an arm around his aching stomach. “Fuck.”

“I had to test the results.”

“You could have just shown me a clip of Senator Inhofe.”

Tony made a yuk face. “That dried up old fuck who thinks people aren’t responsible for climate change?”

“And that it might be good for us. Yeah.” Bruce felt sick. “He’s probably going to chair the Environment and Public Works Committee.”

“I wish I hadn’t sworn off buying elections.” Tony swung an arm around Bruce’s shoulders and gave him a half-assed hug. “I was trying to make you angry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” He grinned. “I’m not a complete asshole.”

Bruce laughed.

Tony pulled away and gave a small shrug. “Besides, I’ve kind of been wanting to kick your ass for a while.” He pulled a couple of glasses and an unusual art deco bottle from a cabinet and sat them out on a table. Tony held up the bottle and showed it to Bruce. “The Macallan 55 year old in a Lalique bottle. I’ve been saving this for a special occasion. This one will do.” He started to open it.

“Wait,” said Bruce. “That’s insanely expensive.”

Tony shrugged. “Not really. It’s only around twelve thousand, depending on the market.”

“Can’t we celebrate by donating—” Tony’s scowl cut Bruce short.

“I’m about to bust this over your head.”

“Tony, save it. Please. It’s too much. I won’t enjoy it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’ll donate the cost of the bottle to whatever stupid nonprofit you think deserves it.” He returned the bottle to the cabinet.

“Greenpeace. Thanks, Tony.”

Tony sighed and slumped over the counter.

Concerned, Bruce joined him, pressing a shoulder against him. His weight resting on his forearms, Bruce asked, “You don’t like Greenpeace?”

“What?” Tony seemed distracted. “No, they’re great. Environmental conscience with balls. What’s not to like? I was just looking forward to opening that bottle.”

“You and Pepper should drink it.”

Tony snorted. “Pepper doesn’t drink scotch.” He sighed, stroking the face of his Rolex. “You’re the only one I know who appreciates a good scotch as much as I do. This is such a big deal. It seemed like the perfect time to enjoy it.”

“I didn’t realize what it meant to you,” said Bruce. “Maybe we should drink it.”

“Yeah?”

Bruce patted Tony’s back. “Sure.”

Tony retrieved the bottle and filled their glasses. He grinned as he shoved one at Bruce, sloshing scotch on the counter. “You fucktard. I have a bottle just like this in the master toilet. You forget who you’re dealing with sometimes.” He paused to light a cigar, then continued, talking out of the side of his mouth. “This is chump change. I can find this shit in my couch cushions.”

Bruce mopped up scotch from the side of his glass with a finger and sucked it. “Yeah. You got me.” He could barely suppress his grin. “I’m sitting here about to drink some alcohol that costs about nineteen hundred dollars less than the yearly take home pay of someone working at the federal minimum wage, and you’re donating to one of my favorite organizations. If that’s what it looks like when I lose, what does it look like when I win?”

“The world will never know.” Tony held a melancholy air for a beat before rearing back and laughing. “We’re going to kill this bottle, and then we’ll drink more. And don’t worry, I keep a case of cheap five grand shit in here, so we can get nicely toasted.” He looked at Bruce with a slight frown. “You okay, bro?”

Bruce felt dizzy. He was no longer reeling from the blows, but from the realization that his monster was finally gone. “I’m free,” he whispered. Overcome with amazement and joy, he threw his hands in the air and shouted, “I’m free!" Tony grinned and put up a hand to high-five. Bruce wrapped him up in a hug instead, laughing and nuzzling his neck and shoulder. “We did it! We fucking did it!” He kissed the side of Tony’s head and squeezed him harder. “I love you, man! I fucking love you!”

“I love you too. Now stop it with the kissing and snuffling and shit, you twat.”

Bruce planted another big kiss on his cheek and parted from him with a final enthusiastic squeeze. He wiped his eyes and lifted his glass. “To teamwork, to new beginnings, and to Tony—the brother I always wanted.”

They drank, then Tony raised his glass. “To a life without smashing. And to you, because—for a hippie you don’t stink so bad.”

Bruce laughed. “I don’t stink at all. Loki says I smell fucking good.”

“Like Loki would know anything. You smell like the bath isle at Whole Foods.”

“That’s a great odor! They could really be more progressive, though….” He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

“Bruce?” Tony took Bruce’s arm. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” Bruce said blissfully. “I feel like a fourteen hundred pound weight has been lifted from me. I don’t have to worry about hurting Loki anymore. I don’t have to worry about hurting my children.” He laughed softly. “Children. Can you imagine how adorable Loki’s going to look pregnant? Ungh.” He cupped the air before him, his hands spaced apart. “I’ll hold his sweet pregnant belly in my hands and cover it in kisses.”

Tony shuddered. “Uh, yeah. The Eagles don’t look too bad this year. I think Philly—”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce drained his glass and sighed happily. “It’s just that—I’m normal. I’m finally normal.”

“Except for the part where you’re one of the world’s most intelligent people and have dissociative identity disorder and are married to a Norse god, yeah.” Tony poured another round.

“Uh, yeah. Except for that part.”

Tony’s eyes bored through him. “You still haven’t told Loki about your DID, have you? Or your father or any of that stuff?”

“No.” Bruce couldn’t look at Tony anymore and stared into his glass instead. “He doesn’t know I’m broken. He sees me the way I want to be seen. It’s hard to fuck that up.”

“It’s none of his fucking business,” Tony said stoutly. “I was just curious.” He knocked back his drink and shrugged. “Hey, at least you won’t be destroying any more neighborhoods.”

***

Loki wasn’t sure what to expect when he entered Laboratory Five in Stark Tower. Pepper was in Tokyo on business, and he hadn’t been able to reach Bruce for hours. Even when Bruce and Tony were working on one of their asinine projects together, Bruce always answered Loki’s calls. Loki found the scientist and the inventor sitting on the floor and giggling as they took hits off a vaporizer. He stared at the pair in confusion.

“Loki!” cried Bruce and grabbed at the air in Loki’s direction like a toddler wanting applesauce. “Come have a tokie!”

Tony lost his shit and rolled around on the floor.

Loki crouched beside Bruce and stroked his forehead. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve seen you stoned, but I’ve never seen you like this.”

“That’s because I’m also drunk. Very drunk. Very, very drunk.” He leaned in close and whispered in Loki’s ear, “The weed hasn’t helped for some reason.”

Loki turned on Tony. “What is the meaning of this? You know it’s dangerous for him to be intoxicated!”

Tony lifted himself off the floor. “First off, Bruce is an autonomous being capable of making his own decisions. Second off—” He paused.

Bruce snickered. “OFF!”

“Second—”

“Off would be a great name for a band,” said Bruce with way too much enthusiasm. “We should do that, Tony. Hey! Tony! We should do that. We should form a band called Off. Maybe JARVIS could be in it.”

“Second—what the fuck would JARVIS do in our band?”

“Steve could do the graphics.”

“I don’t understand what gets into you two sometimes.” Loki pulled Bruce to his feet. “This is profoundly stupid. What if he turned into the Hulk?”

Bruce hung on Loki. “Baby, there is no Hulk anymore. He’s gone. Poof.” He grinned excitedly and turned to Tony. “Poof could be Off’s first album!”

As Tony dissolved into giggles, Loki turned Bruce’s chin toward him. “What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?”

“Poof!” Bruce blew in Loki’s face. “It’s old British slang for gay. It’s a fun word, though. Poof!”

Loki, still holding Bruce by his chin, shook the scientist’s head a little. “What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?”

“Tony and I worked out a way to remove The Other Guy from my DNA. Loki, I’m free!”

Although Bruce was obviously thrilled by this development, Loki wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He had grown used to the idea that Bruce could become the Hulk. He had come to feel as comforted by that fact as he was terrified of it. It was like a kind of magic. At times, Loki even sensed a dark magic in the Hulk’s aura. In a way, the Hulk made Bruce similar to Loki—a shapeshifter whose abilities caused him to be shunned by his people. The Hulk had been one of the reasons they had gotten together—the Hulk couldn’t kill Loki. And now he was gone.

“You banished him.” Loki couldn’t hold the dismay from his voice. “You destroyed a noble creature—and you two laugh?”

“Loki,” Bruce said softly, focusing on him with difficulty, “we removed the Hulk’s DNA from mine, we didn’t butcher the last unicorn.”

Tony stood and glared at Loki. “No, Bruce, don’t let him do this shit to you. Look, Reindeer Games, I know this might be hard to absorb, but not everything in the world’s about you or your fucking feelings. He did something for him. Who gives a flying fuck how you feel about it? He’s happy. Let him be fucking happy, you selfish little prick.”

“Fuck you, Tony.” Loki pulled Bruce out the door.

“I love you, bro!” Bruce yelled into the lab as the door shut.

***

Once they were back in their apartment, Loki put Bruce to bed, laying him on his side with pillows behind his back so he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. Then he lit incense and watched the fragrant smoke waft about the darkened living area, the only light coming through the partially-opened blinds.

He sat on the floor in a lotus position before a shallow basin of water and held his hands side by side, palms up. With the barest whisper of an incantation, he danced a flower of green flame into his open palms. There was no body to sail away in a barge, no barge to burn aflame, no river to carry away the remains, no mourners save himself. But Loki could hold a private memorial, consisting of his strange feelings and a blossom of fire.

He wasn’t sure why the news had affected him the way it had. Tony was right, really—Loki should have been happy for Bruce. But Loki couldn’t help feeling that there was something foul about the whole business. Banishing the Hulk—somehow it felt like leaving a baby to the elements, to enemies. There was something distasteful about it, something cruel. It was undeserved. It was unjust.

He chanted one of the dirges that sent Asgard’s dead on their last journey.

“These flames burn in remembrance,  
In honor, in love;  
Bones must sink, smoke rise above;  
No stone sepulcher, no dark grave,  
Naught but fire and water  
For the wicked and the brave.”

Gently, he laid the fire blossom atop the water. It floated for a second, making the basin glow. Then it vanished.

“Farewell, my adversary, my ally. We were never friends, but I shall mourn you, nonetheless.”

He sat there a moment, then wiped tears from his cheeks and curled on the couch. He couldn’t bring himself to join Bruce in the bed and slept by himself amid shadows and smoke.

  



	5. Chapter 5

Bruce woke feeling like he had fallen down the stairs of the Empire State Building. He lay still for a moment, assessing his physical woes, then, with effort, rolled over to discover he was in bed alone. He groaned his way up and stumbled to the living area. A Loki-crafted hangover remedy and a snuggle with his sorcerer would make everything better.

He found Loki in the Warrior Lunge. Bruce smiled; Loki looked incredibly sexy in that position. “You’re up early.”

Loki threw him a stern glance. “No. You’re up late.”

Bruce scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to lower his expectations. He pulled the bag of veggie stock cubes from the freezer and dropped a couple into a coffee cup. As the broth warmed in the microwave, he tried to engage Loki once more. “You look so beautiful this morning.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Loki.” Bruce sighed. “That also describes how I feel.” To his dismay, they were out of fresh ginger. He added a shot of vodka to the broth. While Loki continued his yoga routine, Bruce sat carefully on the couch with his brew. He wished Loki would sit with him, would hold him.

But Loki wasn’t used to him being needy, and, although Bruce sometimes suffered from headaches, he was never sick. Still…. Sometimes Loki didn’t pick up on nonverbal cues. “I missed waking up with you this morning,” said Bruce. “When you’re done, could we hold each other for a while?”

“No.”

“Okay….”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Loki glared at him coldly. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t involve you.”

Bruce held his head. “So what is it I’ve done exactly to incur my sorcerer’s wrath?”

“You want a list?”

“In alphabetical order and enumerated, please.”

“I see your sense of humor is still intact.”

He blinked at Loki in surprise. “That’s not what this is about, is it? You can’t be angry because—”

Loki stalked toward him, simmering. “Because you destroyed a glorious, innocent creature?”

“He scared you!”

“Dragons can be frightening as well, but I would never, ever slay one!”

Bruce decreased his volume, hoping to lead by example. “He wasn’t a dragon. He was a mistake. Getting rid of him was like excising a tumor. No one mourns tumors.”

“How DARE you! How DARE you! How DARE you! How DARE you!”

Bruce cringed. “Loki, please. Please lower your voice. My head is killing me, I’m nauseated, and I’m sore everywhere.”

“HE WAS _NOT_ A BLOODY FUCKING TUMOR!!!”

Bruce set his drink on the cocktail table so he could hold his ringing head between his hands. “Baby, I’m really not up to this—”

“He was NOT an accident—”

A sharp ping of anger pulled Bruce’s head up. “Don’t tell me what he was. I lived with him for nearly two decades. I know him better than anyone.”

“But you didn’t. You NEVER knew him! He was magical!”

“He was a monster!”

“He was your twin—your brother—and you never loved him. Never! You never gave him a chance. You turned your back on him—just because he was different! You and your thoughtless friends—you never gave him the respect he deserved! He needed you—and you betrayed him!”

“Okay.” Bruce buried his face in his hands. “Okay. I think I understand this now.” He looked up at Loki. “I can see how you might feel that way, but that simply wasn’t the case.”

Loki continued to fume. “You’re too close to it. You can’t see it.” Tears started in his eyes. “You killed him. How could you kill him? How?”

“Oh, Loki. Sweet Loki.” Bruce ached to hug his angry sorcerer. “It wasn’t like that. Please believe me. I try not to hurt anyone. You know this. I didn’t want him to hurt you anymore.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “You were better with him. You never acted like a drunken buffoon when he was part of you.”

“Ouch, but maybe I deserved that. I haven’t been drunk in a long time. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You were disgusting!”

Bruce stared at him sharply. “How many times have you been completely shit-faced since I’ve known you? Did I ever—even once—criticize you? I took care of you—always—and never once complained.”

“You enjoy taking care of me.”

“Yes,” said Bruce. “I do. But sometimes, it would be nice if you took care of me.”

Loki folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe when you deserve it, I will.”

Bruce’s heart sank. “You’re so spiteful sometimes,” he said in a thin voice.

“That wasn’t spiteful. Spiteful would be if I told you what a complete failure you are without him. Yesterday, Stark blatantly disrespected me—and you did absolutely nothing about it.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Is that what I can expect from now on? The new neutered Bruce Banner? Tony Stark’s little pet.”

In silence, Bruce quaffed his drink and strode angrily to the bedroom. Hulk lurched up inside him. In his mind, Bruce threw a black satin sheet over him. Hulk disappeared. Still seething, Bruce changed clothes, then went to the foyer and pulled on his shoes and jacket.

“Where are you going?” asked Loki. He still sounded snitty.

“Out.”

“Be careful,” said Loki, getting a glass of water, his voice devoid of concern. “You’re just another Midgardian now.”

“Is that how you see me?”

Loki shrugged, drinking, his back to Bruce. “That’s what you are.”

Bruce felt as if something had shattered inside him. He stood with one hand on the doorknob, staring at Loki’s crisp back, unable to move. Loki swiveled on one foot to eye him smugly. “Remember our peace agreement—don’t run off expecting someone to run after you.”

Bruce stared into the cold eyes of his god. “I don’t expect anything from you. I’ve only ever wished or hoped. Thank you for disabusing me of those as well.”

He fled into the hallway. His vertigo forced him to take the elevator instead of the stairs. As the floors blinked past, he felt as if he were being lowered into a grave.

When at last he was outside, the cold air kissed his face. The city ran its fingers through his hair and pulled him along its streets. He followed it with an aimless detachment, like a balloon dragged about by a small child.

He found himself in Central Park. Instead of finding solace there, he could only think of Loki. He looked around in sudden horror, wanting to take refuge somewhere away from thoughts of the trickster, but realizing in the same moment that no place existed.

His breath caught.

As he had when he was a little boy, he invited the monster in, begging Hulk to take the pain he could not endure.

Hulk—the name Bruce had given him when he was four, leaving off the article he used as an adult to distance himself from the green-skinned beast. Hulk accepted, as he almost always had, moving to the fore and allowing Bruce to sink somewhere beneath his confused feelings, beneath his despair. While the monster brought to life by the gamma radiation accident was gone, the beast within—the creature whose genesis was horrific child abuse—that Hulk was a permanent fixture of Bruce’s torn psyche. The radiation had given the monster form, but he had lived with Bruce long before that.

Most children feared the monsters they imagined hiding in their closets and under their beds. But Bruce’s father had been more terrifying than a creature from any nightmare. So, during one vicious beating, four-year-old Bruce had extended a hand to one of the imaginary beasts in the closet and asked it to stand in his stead. Hulk agreed, and Bruce’s mind split in two.

There was Bruce, the sensitive, fragile boy whose dad hated him, and Hulk, who hated the fuck out of mean dads. Bruce didn’t care much for mean dads either, but Hulk was stronger than Bruce—much stronger. The abuse didn’t hurt him as much. While Bruce might cry, Hulk just got angry—and being angry only made him stronger.

He and Hulk had always had a complicated relationship. Sometimes they vied for control. Sometimes, Hulk was cruel. He had raged for weeks following the murder of Bruce’s mother, furious that Bruce’s mental shock had prevented him from manifesting. Still, when psycho dad expanded his abusive repertoire to include rape, Hulk had taken Bruce’s place without hesitation, shielding him from this new pain and humiliation as he had from every punch and kick since taking Bruce’s hand four years earlier. Bruce hated Hulk and loved him, resented him and pitied him, but when Bruce needed him, Hulk always came.

Bruce relaxed and allowed Hulk to gambol about the park as one might walk a dog on a long leash. After a while, Bruce resumed control. Years of practice fighting against the strength of the physical manifestation made overthrowing the shadow personality as easy as drawing a deep breath.

Grief attacked him. Bruce staggered as if from a blow. He thought he might vomit and held himself against a tree along the trail. _Just another Midgardian…._ How could he have been such a fool? It was all too much. He fled again behind Hulk’s protection, using the monster as a shield. Hulk always endured the violence and pain he could not.

Despite the protection of his cocoon, Bruce felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps Loki had been right—perhaps Hulk was a noble creature. But _he_ had been right as well. The psychological aspect of Hulk was problematic, but the physical aspect of Hulk was dangerous. If Bruce wanted anything approaching a normal life with Loki—Loki!

Bruce pushed deeper into the monster’s being, diving down until all feelings ceased and even sensations faded to a muffled roar.

***

Loki felt somewhat guilty after Bruce left. He paced the apartment. Bruce had been right about some things, but so had he. Loki couldn’t help how he felt about the Hulk’s banishment. But, however he felt, it was done. And, even if he could find some way to undo it, Bruce wouldn’t want that.

So, if he loved Bruce, he would have to put his feelings aside and deal with the here and now. And he did love Bruce. He had loved him in spite of his monster; he had fallen in love with his humanity and with all of the intangible qualities that made him one of the most beautiful beings in all of the realms Loki had traveled. He thought of how they had gotten together, how patient Bruce had been with him, how willing Bruce had been to see the good in him, how easily Bruce had loved and understood him.

Loki made pumpkin soup and cranberry orange muffins. He vacuumed and dusted the apartment and hoped Bruce would be home soon. (And yes, he used magic to perform some of these tasks, but that didn’t make them any less thoughtful.)

After a while, Bruce came home with the cold still clinging to him. Loki confronted him in the foyer as he removed his shoes and jacket. Bruce stared at him darkly, his face ruddy with cold, his eyes, bloodshot and glassy. “I don’t want to talk,” he said. “I returned because I feel too sick to walk around any longer, not because I want to see you.”

Hurt, Loki held silent and left his scientist alone. He watched Bruce get a glass of water and take some ibuprofen. Bruce walked past him without a word and disappeared into the bedroom. Loki observed his scientist’s instructions for almost fifteen minutes before following him.

 _Moonlight Sonata_ encircled the room like an aural spell. Although the music was lovely, it almost made Loki feel sick. It was Bruce’s favorite wound-licking music. Like Loki, like a wild animal, the scientist withdrew when emotionally hurt. Lacking a proper cave, he fashioned one of music and darkness. Loki’s heart clenched. In the oddest of ways, they were so much alike.

Loki walked through the music as if parting a veil. He sat on the bed. Bruce was on his side, curled, his back to Loki. “I’m sorry,” Loki told him softly.

“I’m sorry too,” Bruce whispered. He curled tighter and sobbed into his knees.

Loki hated when Bruce cried, because he never quite knew what to do. Happily, Bruce didn’t cry often. Loki spooned against him, held him and kissed the back of his head. “I really hurt you this time, didn’t I?” he whispered.

Bruce swallowed and seemed to be trying to stop, but then dissolved into tears once more. Finally, he said in a rasp, “You don’t love me.”

“I do,” said Loki gently. “Of course, I do.”

But Bruce was inconsolable. He didn’t speak. He only shuddered in quiet agony, hiding his face.

“Bruce…I love you.” Loki turned him over and pulled him close. “You know that, don’t you?” He pried up Bruce’s head and kissed his wet face. “I love you. I love you utterly and completely. I’m just a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

Bruce buried his face in Loki’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Loki rubbed down the length of Bruce’s back, which continued to quake intermittently. “Bruce,” Loki whispered gently, touching his husband as lovingly as he would have touched Sleipnir, with the most careful gentleness. “Sweet Bruce. I love you. I love so very much.”

Bruce drew a deep breath and pulled back, looking into Loki’s eyes. “I’m sorry. This crying—” He wiped his eyes with his knuckles. “I feel so emotionally raw. I’m not sure if the hangover is to blame, or if it’s just my body adjusting to the changes from the procedure.” He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There might be a psychological component we didn’t account for—” He heaved a breath, obviously struggling to master his emotions. “And I never factored in your disapproval—that this would change the way you see me, how you feel about me.”

“I love you. I was angry. I said things to hurt you. I shouldn’t have—it’s that simple. No grand schemes, no wild conspiracies—just a pissy sorcerer.” Loki ran his fingers through Bruce’s hair and smiled at him guiltily. “As for the tears, I think you’re allowed to cry once in a while.” He stroked Bruce’s face. “You’re even allowed to feel bad sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Bruce sniffled, amused.

Loki frowned. “Are you aware that you have a bruise on your left cheek?”

“I’m not surprised. I probably have one on my stomach too.” He lifted his shirt for Loki’s inspection.

Loki clutched his chest in horror. He wasn’t used to seeing bruises on his Bruce. “You’re hurt!”

Bruce frowned. “You don’t think it’s kind of sexy—kind of tough?”

Loki stared, aghast. “Why would I think that?”

Bruce blushed a little and tried to pull his shirt down. Loki held it up, glaring at him with concern. He iced his fingers and applied them to the bruise. “Thanks,” said Bruce, sounding touched, “but it isn’t that bad.”

Loki scoffed. “Sexy.” He applied his other hand to Bruce’s cheek.

“You often leave your bruises unhealed. And…I think they’re kind of hot.”

Loki glowered at his silly Bruce. “Only bruises from sex. I don’t heal them because I like to remember what we did. They’re sexy on me. On you, they’re just dreadfully sad.” He stroked an icy finger around the bruise on Bruce’s abdomen, feeling, suddenly, not just distress, but anger. “Tell me, exactly, how did this happen?”

“Tony sort of attacked me.” Bruce snorted in amusement, as if there were anything remotely amusing about that statement.

“When I found you, you two seemed to be having a great time—”

“It was just a test. He had to see what happened if he made me angry.”

“That insufferable douchebag. I’m going to take him apart. His tin can won’t save him. I’ll snap—”

“Loki, we had to test the results.”

Loki shook his head. “The dolt didn’t have to hit you. He could have just shown you a Senator Inholfe video.”

Bruce beamed. “That’s what I said!”

Loki hugged Bruce close and rubbed his back. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “It hurts me to my marrow that you would ever feel unloved.” Loki knew that pain all too well, and felt deeply ashamed that anything he said had made Bruce feel that way.

“I’m sorry I…disappointed you.” Bruce glanced away. “I shouldn’t have done something so drastic without including you in the decision.”

Loki cradled Bruce’s head in his hands, forcing Bruce to look at him. “I had time to think about this. It’s your body. It belongs to you; I just happen to love it. Whatever you choose to do with it is your decision, not mine.” He lost himself in the dark wells of Bruce’s eyes for a moment. “And if I love you, I should be supportive of your decisions.” He smiled. “And I love you, Bruce, to the deepest, darkest, dust-strewn dungeons of my heart.”

Bruce nuzzled against him. “Your heart has dungeons?”

“My heart has all kinds of things. Moats and sea serpents, oubliettes and turrets, a throne room…and a Banner. The Banner takes up most of it.”

Bruce squeezed him appreciatively.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Although Bruce's physical and emotional abuse as a child, as well as his dissociative identity disorder resulting from the abuse, are canon, the idea that his father also abused him sexually is mine. I did this because so many of the guys I've known who were physically abused by their fathers were also sexually abused. Especially in light of Bruce's DID, that addition made sense to me.


	6. Chapter 6

Bruce pulled away from the gaggle of research assistants to answer his phone. “How’s my favorite god of sweetness?”

“Superior to all that scamper, fly or swim upon Midgard. As usual. How’s my favorite silly scientist?”

He slipped into the adjunct professors’ office he shared and was pleased to find it empty. He picked up his travel mug of aromatic chai and sank happily into his chair. The perfect break: tea and Loki’s sultry voice. “Feeling very bored with nuclear physics at the moment and wishing I were home studying anatomy with you.”

“Hmmm.”

Bruce sipped his tea. He realized Loki must not be alone. “Is Pepper with you?”

“No. Clint and I are crapping together in New Jersey.”

Bruce spit all over his desk. He struggled to stop coughing. “You’re what?”

“Crapping. With Clint.”

“Baby, uh…could you please explain what you mean by that.”

“We’re crapping at a bar together. For money. He’s right, you are rather sheltered, aren’t you?”

Bruce held his forehead. “Loki, baby. I might regret this, but could you please take a picture of what you’re doing and send it to me?”

“You’re very weird sometimes.”

“So I’ve been told.”

***

Loki snapped a selfie with Clint throwing dice in the background and sent it to Bruce with the message, “Crapping.<3 Loki.”

Clint frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

“I sent Bruce a picture. He misses me, of course.”

“Right,” said Clint. “Do you still want to go?”

“I do.” Loki had not only been flattered that Clint asked for his help, but, once he learned the details of the operation, he would have gone without him.

Clint paid their tab while Loki settled up with the guy they had been playing. Loki followed Clint out of the bar, pausing with him while the assassin pulled on his gloves. They walked to the convention center that temporarily housed one of the circuses Clint had traveled with in his youth.

“Last night, Natasha and I were able to get close, but we couldn’t get in the big cats’ trailer. Get pictures of any signs of abuse or neglect you see, and if you can, verify that the tiger is still alive. The undercover activist said it hadn’t moved in two days before she was forced out.” Clint shook his head in disgust. “Ninety-six percent of a circus animal’s life is spent in chains or cages.”

“I’ll do all I can,” Loki promised. With that, he shifted into the shape of a middle-aged woman passing them and walked into the crowd. He shifted into a little girl, then a teenage boy, then an old man, then one of the roustabouts. He neared the trailer where the big cats were kept. It was locked.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned into a mouse and crawled through a gap in the trailer’s metal skin. Inside, the stench of cat urine was overwhelming. But it was the state of the animals themselves that brought tears to his eyes. Leopards and lions were housed in cages too small for them to stand in, let alone turn around. And in the largest cage, a massive Siberian tiger lay like a pile of bones covered in striped fur.

Loki-mouse trotted past the lions and slipped between the bars of the tiger’s cage. He shifted into himself. The cage would only permit him to squat, folded tight. When it saw him, the tiger’s lips drew away from rotting fangs. It slithered backward, growling.

Softly, Loki sang the three perfect notes that quieted the giant snow cats of Asgard. It was a gamble, but he had been quite lucky all day. His luck held. The tiger’s snarl disappeared. It stared at him with rheumy eyes, its body rocked by its ragged breaths.

It was, at once, one of the most noble and pathetic creatures Loki had ever seen. Loki extended a hand for it to sniff. “Hello, beautiful,” he said softly. “The folly of these humans. To have a world blessed with creatures such as you and take all of it for granted.” The tiger’s breath misted his fingers. “I try to pity them, but when I see something like this—”

The tiger rubbed the side of its nose against Loki’s hand. Loki held his hand still, letting the tiger nuzzle him. Whiskers like straws slid across his skin. He rubbed behind its ear. It purred in great, wheezy breaths.

Loki forgot why he was there. He forgot Clint. He forgot Bruce. His mind held only the starved beast in front of him. Within seconds, he had its enormous head in his lap—the weight of it comparable to holding a small child. Loki crooned a lullaby of soft noises he had composed for Sleipnir and smoothed his hands along the tiger’s malnourished body.

After several long minutes of loving the tiger, Loki wished he could heal it. But he didn’t know how. He was only there to confirm the tiger lived and to document the circus’ cruelty.

“I believe,” Loki said to the tiger, stroking its broad head, “there has been a change of plans.” With the flick of a finger, the roof exploded off the tiger’s cage. He rose to his full height as the barred walls surrounding the tiger fell to the floor.

With difficulty, the tiger sat up. It moved toward Loki with a guttural noise. Loki held still. The tiger, wheezing, pressed its nose against Loki’s hand.

Loki took a deep breath, the ammonia-thick air searing his nasal passages. “I won’t leave you,” he told the tiger. He looked around the trailer at the leopards and lions. “I won’t leave any of you.”

He wove the cat-calming notes into a containment spell, then, with a swirl of his fingers, added a shielding component. The resulting orb floated above his left hand, radiating pale green light. He dropped one on the tiger. Green light fanned around the tiger’s body, encircling it in a vibrating bubble of light.

Loki encased the rest of the cats in orbs of their own. Then, with a wave of his hand, every cage around the room rusted instantly and crumbled to the floor as dust.

Loki’s tiger friend snorted. Loki grinned at him. “Did you like that, my dear? We’re just getting started.” He gathered his power, luxuriating in it, feeling it wave around his body.

Loki threw his arms and head back and blew the trailer apart.

The lot swarmed with screaming people. Loki stood on the remains of the cat trailer as if it were a platform. Magically, he took apart the other trailers. He dropped shields on every animal he encountered, but some of the trailers held humans. He left them alone, standing half-dressed before vanities or humping on beds, unprotected by walls.

He recognized one of the cat-handlers and lashed him across the face with a laser-lit whip of magic. Loki dropped a containment spell on him—but not before filling it with cat pee and fire ants. He shrugged at the tiger. “Mischief.”

Loki frowned about him. Finally, he saw the circus owners trying to escape—a fat man in a flashy suit with a greasy ponytail and a tall skinny blonde whose face looked like a botox mask. Loki pulled them toward him by buckling the ground beneath them.

He leaped off the trailer, shapeshifting into a giant tiger before he touched the ground. He was on the owners in a heartbeat, snarling and lashing his tail. The woman screamed on her knees. The man pushed her toward Loki, trying to use her as a human shield. From his aroma, Loki was fairly certain the coward had shit his pants.

“Loki!” cried Clint, running up beside the cringing assholes. “Don’t eat them! We want to press charges against them—we want this to go to court.”

“I wasn’t going to eat them,” said Loki, raising his paw over the couple. “I was just going to play with them for a while.”

“Loki, you’ve already taken this further than we agreed.”

“Oh, all right.” Loki shifted back to himself. He pointed a finger at the man. “Sit your disgusting ass down. I’m still perfectly capable of menacing you in this form.”

Clint slipped snap ties on the woman. He looked at Loki askance. “You certainly know how to make a scene.”

“I try,” said Loki, preoccupied. He had removed the man’s mouth and was holding him to the ground by shooting bolts of green lightning through his body. “Yes,” Loki hissed at the owner, “sucks to be the less evolved species, doesn’t it?”

Clint turned to the man to restrain him. Loki smiled innocently at Clint and slapped the owner’s mouth back on. The man just kind of trembled stinkily while Clint zipped up his wrists. They handed the criminals off to the police, then helped the animal control officers, veterinarians and animal rescue agents treat and sort the animals.

When they came to the tiger, Loki banished its shield and sat with it, holding its head in his lap, while rescuers treated the other cats. “I know this wasn’t the plan,” Loki told Clint as the assassin knelt beside him, “but I couldn’t leave this one here another day.”

Clint held a hand up for the tiger to sniff. “He looks like a tiger I knew as a boy. I always loved the big cats.” He smiled at Loki. “This guy probably wouldn’t have made it another day. That was a good call.”

Loki, stroking the tiger’s head, watched Clint scratch behind the tiger’s ear. He felt strangely overcome. “Thank you for including me in this.”

“You weren’t my first choice,” said Clint. “Tony didn’t want anything to do with it, and Steve was busy, but Natasha reminded me how much you like animals, so….”

“Anytime you need help with something like this, I’ll be glad to assist you.” He cocked his head. “I had no idea you cared about this sort of thing.”

Clint smiled at him. “I had no idea you could be anything other than a big pain in the ass. But you’re kinda fun.” He nodded at the tiger. “And you’ve got good taste in friends. I bet there are a lot of things we don’t know about each other.”

***

Bruce pulled aside the heavy brocade drapes and walked out onto an empty beach. There were no people, no vehicles, no seabirds—just white sand and blue green waves—and Hulk, sitting with his legs crossed, hunched over, watching the waves roll in and out.

Bruce joined him. Bruce shrank as he neared the giant, hoping to interface with him in a form Hulk found more acceptable. When he sat next to Hulk, Bruce was dressed in footed pajamas decorated with Tigger and Eeyore. He wore a plastic Frankenstein mask turned facing backwards with the rubber band strap beneath his nose. He was four. “I thought I should check in. Are you okay?”

Hulk looked at Bruce and heaved a great sigh. “Hulk trapped. Trapped inside weak, stupid Bruce.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bruce. He squinted up at the sky. “Would you like me to turn the sun up for you?” Hulk didn’t answer. “Oh,” said Bruce. “I know.” He darted up and grabbed a big black garbage bag that appeared suddenly on the beach. He drug it to Hulk and presented it with a huge smile. “Look! A great big bag of weed!”

Hulk looked at it sullenly. “No body. No smashing. No Loki.”

“Do you want to play a game?” A chessboard with the pieces neatly arranged appeared between them. Bruce squatted in front of the board, across from Hulk. “Ebony or ivory?”

“Asshole.” Hulk flipped the chessboard over and flung it into the waves.

The chessboard and pieces reappeared between them. “You can hate me if you want,” Bruce said quietly, “but I’m all you have.”

Hulk stared at him. Finally, he said, “Cuts both ways.” His gaze lifted to the waves at Bruce’s back. “Black.”

Bruce turned the chessboard so Hulk had the ebony side. Just as Bruce was about to make the first move, a hand on his shoulder snapped him around. He blinked in the painfully bright light.

“Bruce?” Loki’s eyes were wide with alarm. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I was waiting for you.”

Loki frowned. “You were just sitting here in the apartment, in the dark, waiting for me to come home?”

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “I was…meditating…. I guess I fell asleep. Did you and Clint have fun?”

Loki regaled Bruce with his circus adventure while they made dinner, but during pauses, Bruce stole back to the hidden beach to entertain the captive giant. He wondered how long he could keep the beast contained.

  



	7. Chapter 7

Loki toweled his hair and flounced to the kitchen just in time to watch Bruce make coffee. He frowned at the bag of yarn on the breakfast bar. “What’s this?”

Bruce looked up from grinding coffee beans. “What? Oh, that. That’s my knitting bag. I’m going to a _Doctor Who_ knitting party tonight with Pepper and Jane. One of Jane’s coworkers is hosting it.”

“You knit?”

Bruce laughed. “You said that as if I told you I ate babies.”

Loki shrugged. “Babies look delicious. Knitting on the other hand….”

“Is relaxing. And rewarding, because you’re creating something.”

“Fine,” said Loki. “But you can go to Barneys and buy a perfectly decent sweater.”

“Not at twenty-two thousand feet above sea level in the Andes mountains. You won’t find any Barneys there. You will, however, find plenty of Alpacas. That’s where I learned to knit. I stayed with this lovely woman—Paloma—eighty years old and so vital. She taught me.”

Loki watched Bruce load the French press. “Jane and Pepper were never hiding in the Andes.”

Bruce glanced up, smiling. “I just taught Pepper.” His smile grew bigger. “I could teach you. You could come with us.”

“I don’t like that new Doctor. He looks so old.”

“That’s ageism.” Bruce scowled. “You’re the last person I would expect to take issue with someone’s age.”

“It’s not ageism. His age doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t mind if people are old. I just mind if they look old.”

Bruce deflated a little. “Loki, sometimes you worry me.”

“I’m not the one doing handcrafts with a bunch of women.”

“Now you’re attaching gender stereotypes to hobbies.”

“Are any other men attending this event?”

Bruce pressed the plunger down in silence.

“Oh, I see now.” Loki smirked. “You like being the only one swinging dick in the room.”

Bruce filled their cups. “Now I know what I’m going to make for you. A ball cozy that tightens into a crusher.” He grinned. “With a few pulls it’ll turn into a fuzzy tube with scrotum heaving out of both ends.”

Loki swirled his finger around in Bruce’s coffee to ‘sweeten’ it, a joke that had turned into a ritual. “How do you make knitting sound so wonderfully filthy?”

Bruce wrapped his fingers around his cup, smiling at Loki with a hint of mischief. “You make dice sound worse.”

Loki smacked Bruce’s coffee cup. Coffee sloshed up over Bruce’s hand. “Oops.”

“Fuck.” Bruce set down his cup and flicked his wet hand over the sink. “At least it wasn’t that hot.”

“I should have hit it harder.”

Bruce, sucking two of his fingers, laughed. The next instant he lunged up at Loki, grabbed him in a headlock, and pulled him toward the toy drawer. Loki squirmed, but didn’t try very hard to get away. He grinned when Bruce slammed him against the cabinets and pulled open their special drawer.

“Shirt off,” Bruce ordered.

“Why?” Loki asked innocently.

“Now!”

Loki wriggled out of his black pullover. He leaned back against the counter, watching as Bruce pulled out some little clear plastic cups with opaque blue and white bottoms. “Are we going to serve beer to some squirrels?”

“No.” Bruce licked around the rim of one of the cups and pressed the cup’s mouth over one of Loki’s nipples. “We’re going to use some new toys to play with your nipples.” He twisted the cup’s lid, releasing some of the air trapped within the cup. Loki gave a small moan as the negative air pressure pulled his flesh up into the cup.

Bruce kissed him and teased his hard cock, tugging it through his jeans and making Loki sway along the countertop, denim whispering against the granite. “We need to do the other one,” said Bruce, “before it gets jealous.” He repeated the process with the other nipple, so Loki had two little cylinders clinging to his chest.

Loki’s nipples felt tight, but he was surprised and delighted when Bruce twisted the lids of the cups and made the suction even tighter. Loki’s nipples stretched and stretched. They grew in the cups like little pink roses, elongating and aching in a most exquisite way. He moaned in frustration. Bruce kissed him and eased him out of his jeans.

Bruce gasped like a kid opening a great present. Loki felt pleased with himself. He knew he looked quite nice in the black fishnet briefs with their open front and back, and had thought Bruce would enjoy seeing them on him. As usual, he had been right.

“You’re stunning,” said Bruce, dropping down and stroking Loki’s thighs. “You’re absolutely stunning.” He licked a bead of pre-cum from Loki’s cock, then pressed the shaft against the side of his face. “I love you,” he sighed.

“It loves you too,” Loki whispered.

Bruce smirked up at him. “I meant you, silly.”

Loki shrugged. “I love you most of the time.”

Bruce puffed his cheeks, reached around, and smacked Loki’s ass. Loki giggled and yanked a hunk of Bruce’s hair. He twisted it around his finger and tugged until Bruce pinched his ass quite hard and said, “Athazagoraphobia!” Loki let go.

Bruce rubbed his head and scowled. “I’m more than happy to punish you. You don’t need to hurt me.”

“Sorry,” said Loki, meaning it. He ruffled Bruce’s hair gently. “Better?”

“More or less.” Bruce pulled some black cuffs and a couple of straps from their drawer. He snapped the smallest of the straps around the neck of Loki’s sack. Loki turned around so Bruce could cuff his hands behind his back. Then, Bruce used the other strap to bind Loki’s cuffed wrists to his balls.

Bruce spun Loki around and glared in his face. Then he grinned and tickled Loki’s sides. Loki bounced around the kitchen, pulling against his restraints and yanking his balls with each movement. His balls ached, but his cock felt harder and harder. He was glad when Bruce slapped his cock a few times.

Then, Bruce stroked him delicately and examined his cupped nipples as if he were checking a soufflé. Loki ground his teeth as Bruce increased the suction. Loki’s blood-engorged nipples lifted from his chest. They ached miserably now.

Bruce shoved him over the island. Loki’s nipple cups tinked against the cold granite. He thought Bruce might fuck him now. Instead, a paddle landed against his ass with a loud WHAP. Several more hard, slow smacks followed. And then Bruce kind of lost his shit or something, pounding Loki’s ass with a violent flurry of wild strikes. Several missed their target entirely, hitting Loki’s thighs instead. One landed on his upthrust balls, painting the lower part of his abdomen in pain.

He was still grimacing when Bruce spun him around. Bruce stroked Loki’s hair off his face. “You’re okay?” he whispered.

“Yes, of course.” Loki managed a faint smile.

“Oh, good!” Bruce beamed at him. He eased one cup, then the other off Loki’s nipples. Pink and shiny, they held to their new stretched shape. “They look sore,” said Bruce, voice soft and sympathetic. He kissed one very gently.

Loki—ass aflame, his balls throbbing, and his stomach aching—felt transported by the sweet sensation of Bruce’s soft lips against his nipple. Bruce caressed Loki’s tortured nipples with his tongue, soothing and seducing them. Loki writhed against the touch, his wrist restraints pulling on his balls. He whimpered.

Bruce paused to suck Loki’s glans and knead beneath his navel. Loki sighed in gratitude. Bruce resumed gently licking and kissing Loki’s nipples. Loki closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. And then he felt Bruce’s warm lips against his. They kissed, but Bruce slipped away, catching Loki’s chin between his teeth and applying soft pressure, gliding down Loki’s throat, open-mouthed—grazing tender skin with tongue and teeth.

And then Bruce was gone. Completely. Loki opened his eyes. Bruce smiled in his face. “Time for the clamps!” He opened one of the toothy-mouthed little black clamps in his hand and snapped it on one of Loki’s sensitive nipples. The little teeth bit into his flesh like tiny needles. Bright bursts of pain shot through Loki’s chest. He hissed in spite of trying not to do so.

“Maybe just the one this time?”

“The other one will get jealous.”

“No…I think not.” Loki cleared his throat. “Not this time.” He squirmed inadvertently as Bruce’s held the next hungry clamp near its intended target.

“Here,” said Bruce, arching his neck near Loki’s mouth. “Bite my neck while I clamp you.”

“I’ll bite you too hard.”

“You won’t. You’ll be careful,” said Bruce. “I know you can be careful.”

Loki balked. “I could kill you.”

Bruce caressed his chest with the open clamp, gliding it down his pec and teasing around his nipple. When he spoke, his voice was breathy, effortlessly gentle. “You could. But you won’t. You love me. And I trust you. Bite me while I apply the clamp.”

Loki opened his mouth and set his teeth against Bruce’s skin. He bit down carefully, bracing himself for the snap of the clamp’s wicked mouth on his swollen, aching nipple. The little jaws shut, steel spikes driving into his sensitive flesh. Loki bit Bruce’s throat as pain sparked through his chest, but he did so carefully, his concentration slowing everything down, lengthening the moment.

He eased off Bruce’s neck and sucked rather than biting it. He moaned as Bruce tugged on his cock. Bruce twisted away and mouthed Loki’s ear, still working Loki’s cock. “See?” he whispered. “I knew I could trust you. I’ll always trust you.”

Loki sighed happily and thought warm thoughts as Bruce’s toasty hands smoothed up and down his ass. Bruce swatted Loki’s ass cheek, then flipped him over the island. Loki mashed the side of his face against the island and spread his legs. He grunted against the cold granite as Bruce unbuckled the strap attaching Loki’s bound wrists to his balls. He enjoyed the soft warmth of Bruce’s tongue playing in his ass and bathing his perineum in gentle strokes.

Bruce sucked Loki’s balls as he lubed Loki’s hole. Loki moaned softly as Bruce stretched him. His nipple clamps raked the granite as he squirmed with anticipation.

He didn’t have to wait long. Bruce’s cock sank head-deep into Loki’s eager hole. Loki pushed back against him. Bruce eased in slowly. He stroked Loki’s ass as he stood still.

“No,” said Loki, a little hoarsely. “Not sweet. Not slow. More!”

“Be still,” Bruce said in a commanding tone.

“Not still, you idiot. More!” He wiggled his ass. “Now!”

Bruce pulled free and smacked Loki’s ass. “Quiet!” He gave the strap holding Loki’s balls a vicious jerk.

“That’s not—”

Two more sharp jerks. Pain flooded Loki’s belly. He was quiet. Bruce snorted. “Maybe I should go read a book.” He took a step back.

Loki looked around at him. “Don—” He stopped himself when he saw Bruce’s arched brow. He rolled his eyes. “Please. Please don’t.”

“Okay,” said Bruce happily and attacked him.

Loki huffed as Bruce’s cock rammed inside him. Bruce’s balls slapped against his as Bruce fucked Loki hard against the island. The rubber handles on the clamps grabbed onto the granite countertop, pulling Loki’s sore nipples back and forth as Bruce pounded his ass.

Bruce whipped the strap—still attached like a leash to the collar around the neck of Loki’s sack—over Loki’s ass cheeks, sending spasms of pain through Loki’s balls while the strap stung his ass. When he didn’t think he could take any more, he felt Bruce’s cum jetting against his walls.

Dizzily, he let Bruce flip him over, and hopped atop the island at Bruce’s command. He lay on his back, his hands still bound behind him. Bruce made him curl his legs up. Bruce sucked his glans. And then Bruce’s fingers were inside him. And then Bruce’s hand. Then his wrist.

Bruce took Loki’s cock deep into his throat. His fist slid deeper into Loki’s rectum. Loki flung his head to the side, moaning. It hurt, but it hurt gloriously.

Loki whined with need when Bruce pulled his fist out. He groaned in aching ecstasy when Bruce punched his hole while sucking his cock. Loki’s nipple clamps bounced atop his chest each time Bruce’s fist drove into Loki’s hole. Loki’s head roared. His body roared. The world blurred. And then a single, beautiful note pealed, and he shattered into a million pieces.

Loki lay on the island, blinking slowly and blissfully as Bruce freed him of the nipple clamps, ball stretcher, and cuffs. Bruce leaned over his face. “I don’t want to hear any more shit about my knitting.”

Loki laughed.

***

Bruce kissed Loki sleepily as lights from the buildings outside the cab slid over the windows. He had never been much of a drinker before the gamma radiation accident, and he had spent years after that limiting his alcoholic intake for fear of hulking. But now, a night out with Loki and a few drinks should have been fine.

They had met up with Clint and Natasha and somewhere between dancing with Loki, talking to Clint while watching Loki dance with Natasha, and trying different concoctions, Bruce had lost track of how much he’d had to drink. If there was a stage between friendly and stuporous, he’d missed it. Life had turned into something swirling and slippery, but every once in a while, he would stick to it and time would lengthen like a piece of gum stuck to a shoe.

He threw his head back in sensual joy as Loki’s tongue slid up his throat to skim his earlobe. The world spun behind his eyelids. Everything was wonderful.

And then Hulk caught him around the waist and dumped him into a steamer trunk. “Wait!” Bruce told him, struggling to sit upright in the trunk. Hulk threw in a pillow and some of the coloring books Bruce had given him. “No!” said Bruce as a deck of loose cards and some juice boxes followed the coloring books. But before he could say or think of anything else, the lid closed and darkness consumed him.

  



	8. Chapter 8

Bruce shivered. He blinked awake. He lay naked under the ledge of the breakfast bar with Loki’s coat. The barstools lay on the floor next to him along with a few broken clay pots, a cheese grater, a lighter and an iron skillet. Lines of salt and molasses swirled around the tiles. He tried to move; he hurt everywhere. His body was covered in bruises and scratches…and glitter. A lot of glitter…. What the fuck? His balls ached in a strange way and his pelvis felt so sore he wondered if someone had kicked him.

He sat up gingerly, peeling himself free of the sticky molasses pool that had served as his pillow. He had something in his teeth. He dislodged it with a nail. A hunk of hair. Loki’s hair. More precisely, judging by the length, Loki’s pubic hair. Then, he realized one of his fingernails was missing. The rest were plastered in dried blood.

“Loki!” He scrambled up. He saw Loki sprawled next to the couch beside a blackened kitchen knife, several bent and twisted forks, and a conical leg from one of the upended armchairs. He looked like a rape victim—his pale nude body marred by bruises. Blood crusted his ass cheeks and thighs. “Oh god, Loki!” He knelt beside Loki’s head.

Loki stirred. His matted hair stuck up as if someone had been dragging him by it. He smiled lasciviously. “Good morning, wild thing,” he purred.

“You’re okay?”

Loki grinned, slinking upright like a torch singer atop a piano. “I’m more than okay. I’m absolutely fucking fabulous.” His expression changed to one of sweet concern. “Aww, no. You don’t remember, do you?”

“No,” said Bruce in a small voice. “The last thing I remember was kissing in the cab.”

“Which time?”

“There was more than one?”

“Oh….” Loki stroked Bruce’s face sadly. “That’s tragic. We had such a great time.” He laughed, overcome. “You’re funny when you’re drunk. So extraverted and unruly! It’s almost like you’re a different person.”

“Yeah…that’s…interesting.”

“You remember the tattoo, though, don’t you?”

“You got a tattoo?”

Loki giggled. “No. You did. On your bottom.”

That did explain the sunburned sensation. Bruce looked around, trying to see it. “What did I get?”

“An ‘M’ on each cheek.”

“What?”

Loki nodded vigorously. “Yes! So, when you pull your ass cheeks apart, it says ‘Mom,’ and when you’re on your back, it says ‘Wow’—which could either be an exclamation of surprise or a tribute to _World of Warcraft_.”

Bruce leaned back against the couch with a sigh. “This is what lasers are for.”

Loki cocked his head. “I thought it was funny. So did everybody at the tattoo parlor when you demonstrated it for them. And at the bar.” He rubbed Bruce’s shoulder. “I never realized how much you enjoyed showing off your hole.”

“I never realized it either….” Bruce pushed Loki’s mat away from his forehead. “I thought you didn’t like it when I act like a ‘drunken buffoon?’”

Loki huffed. “You weren’t being an annoying fool with Tony.” He leaned in and touched the tip of his nose to Bruce’s. “You were being a delightful mischief-maker with me.” He gave Bruce a quick kiss, then smirked. “We had the most glorious fun!”

“We look like the CIA interrogated us.”

Loki laughed. “We had fun! And sex—we had so much sex! Rough, course sandpaper sex and something beyond—depraved, utterly abnormal sex. You’re so creative and so wrong. So, so, so wrong, Robert Bruce Banner.” He swooned into Bruce’s lap. Bruce winced in pain. Loki made a sympathetic little noise and slid to Bruce’s thighs. “You’re sore, aren’t you?”

“I feel like I lost a fight with someone’s knee.”

“No,” said Loki sweetly. “Just my tailbone. And I don’t think you lost.” He licked a finger and caressed the base of Bruce’s cock. “You really don’t remember?”

“Sorry.”

Loki caught Bruce’s hand and wound his hair around it. “Yes, Thug-daddy! I _am_ your dirty whore-boy!” He cocked his head. “Nothing?”

Bruce fought a cringe. “Sorry. That’s not helping.”

Loki grinned. “You’re often pretty aggressive—but last night! Fuuuuck. You were like a wild animal! In the cab, in an alley, in another cab, up the stairs, in the elevator—down, then up the stairs again! Here—all over. You were a machine! Then we stopped and watched _Robot Chicken_. And you loved it!” He frowned slightly. “I suppose that was because you were intoxicated, but maybe you just really enjoyed that episode.”

Bruce stroked up the center of Loki’s beautiful forehead. “We usually cuddle and fall asleep afterward. How did we end up here?”

Loki smirked. “We started up again after _Robot Chicken_.”

Bruce couldn’t smile. “Loki, I’m glad you enjoyed last night, but I can’t do that very often. It’s not good for me to drink like that.”

“That’s all right.” Loki ran a finger down Bruce’s sternum. “I like not quite knowing what I’m going to get with you. Sometimes you’re roses, sometimes you’re thorns—and sometimes you’re a woodchipper.” He grinned, his finger sliding down the trench dividing Bruce’s stomach. “Even without the Hulk, you’re like a shapeshifter—sometimes so forceful, sometimes so gentle.” His tongue, a twist of wet pink silk, glided beneath Bruce’s glans.

"Oh, Loki.” Bruce’s worn body shuddered insistently into arousal. He felt as if it were snapping and creaking like a cold furnace shot through with heat. 

"Let’s not use blood as lube this time,” whispered Loki.

***

That night, Bruce lay awake in the dark. Loki, curled in bed beside him with his back pressed against Bruce’s side, grumbled in his sleep. Bruce kissed the trickster’s shoulder and stroked his hair. Loki sighed and fell silent. Bruce’s focus turned inward.

Bruce faced Hulk in a courtyard sprinkled with cherry trees in bloom. “That was hilarious,” Bruce said flatly. “You’re quite droll, Hulk.”

Hulk stood with his arms crossed over his chest and grunted smugly. 

“If you damage or destroy this body, that’s it. There isn’t another one. Do you understand?” 

Hulk roared down at him. “Stupid Bruce took Hulk’s body!” 

“I did that to stop you from hurting Loki!” 

“Hulk loves Loki! Loves Loki! LOVES!” 

“You love Loki like Jack the Ripper loved prostitutes. You’re a fucking brute.” 

Hulk fumed and shook a fist over Bruce’s head. “Smash.” 

“You’re pissed at me. I get that. I didn’t take your body away to spite you, and I never meant for my head to be your prison.”

“Weak, stupid Bruce-body Hulk’s prison. Weak, stupid body!” 

"It’s our body.” 

“Hulk hates this body!” 

Bruce glowered at him. “All right. It’s a downgrade, but you don’t have to be so bitchy about it.” 

“Hulk’s gonna smash.” But there was more frustration in his expression than fury. 

At such times, Bruce felt great sympathy for the monster. Riding the heels of that sympathy were innumerable confused and bitter feelings. Perhaps Hulk was a construct—a compartmentalization of Bruce’s rage and pain, an artifact of abuse, a scar. But the gamma radiation accident that had given him physical form had made him more than that and had magnified all of Bruce’s mixed feelings about Hulk. Not the least of which was shame. 

Bruce was ashamed, not only of what his father had done to him, but of what he had done to endure it—creating a monster and hiding behind it like a coward—leaving it to take his pain—leaving it to grow like a festering wound because he was too weak to deal with it. “I don’t hate you,” Bruce said softly. “But you’re fortunate Loki enjoyed himself. If you ever hurt him—” 

“Weak, stupid Bruce-body can’t hurt Loki. Loki strong!” 

Bruce continued quietly. “If you ever do anything to him against his will while wearing my face, I will end you. I can do that now. There’s no super monster body to intervene.”

Hulk snorted. “Bruce will die.” 

“Yes. This body will die, and so will we.” 

Hulk swung away like he wanted to punch something, but only growled and turned back to Bruce. “Stupid, stupid Bruce,” he said through gritted teeth, “Hulk LOVES Loki.” 

Bruce nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. “We’ll discuss that in a moment.” He ignored Hulk’s exasperated roar. “Now that we’re sharing a body, I think it’s even more important that we integrate.” 

Hulk grimaced. “Perv.” 

“Not like that.” He sighed. “Remember before the accident, when we were trying to work together? Trying to be whole?” 

Frowning at the ground, Hulk shrugged a shoulder. 

Something in the giant’s demeanor reminded Bruce of Loki looking out the window that first day in his apartment. So much pride, so much fear…. Bruce’s empathy for Loki had helped the sorcerer change paths. Now, knowing Loki cared for Hulk forced Bruce to look at the beast with new eyes. “This isn’t a prison,” he said. “I’ll share more of my mind with you. I can grant you greater access to my memories. You can learn all about physics, biology, physiology, engineering—you can learn foreign languages—” 

“Stupid Bruce.” 

“I also have an extensive and impressive porn collection—and a regrettably large number of _Robot Chicken_ episodes.” He smiled when Hulk looked curious. “I’ve kept you walled away far too long. You’re part of me. I should accept that.”

Hulk peered at Bruce strangely, but didn’t say anything. 

“Since, I suppose it’s more difficult for you to hurt Loki in this form, perhaps you can see him sometimes. Not too often—it’s going to take me at least a week to recover from what you did last night.” Bruce hesitated. “Loki had a good time with you, by the way. He thought you were fun.” 

Hulk didn’t react the way Bruce expected. Instead of crowing over the news, Hulk grew quieter. “Loki not scared of Bruce. Loki loves Bruce,” he said softly. “No one loves Hulk.” 

“You’re me. You understand that, don’t you? I’m you and you’re me. We’re the same.” 

“No, not same.” 

“We’re the same, but different. But the same. So, if Loki loves me, and you are me, then Loki loves you. See?” 

Hulk stared at the ground. Finally, he reestablished eye contact with Bruce. He shook his head a little with an expression that was almost bashful. “Loki….” He looked down again and sighed. “Loki dirt. Loki grass.” He cast his gaze about. “Loki trees. Loki sky. Everything so Loki.” 

“I know.” Bruce smiled. “That’s exactly how I feel.” Bruce spread his arms. “How about a hug?” 

“How abouta Bruce butt plug?” 

Bruce presented Hulk with something resembling a huge traffic cone. “How about this instead?”

Hulk took it from Bruce with a snort. He turned it over, inspecting it carefully. 

“It has a suction cup.” He made a Hulk-sized bathtub appear amid the cherry trees. He added a thick stack of large towels and a fluffy purple bathrobe. 

Hulk frowned. “Bubbles?” 

“Sure.” He threw in a huge green bong and a remote, as well. “You can play whatever music you want.” 

Hulk tested the water temperature and grunted approvingly. Butt plug in one hand, he scowled at Bruce and waved him away with the other. “Fuck off, perv.” 

A thunderous shock pulled Hulk upright. “Fuck!” Bruce cried, hands clasping his face. “Stay,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of it.”

***

Loki woke to Bruce yelling, “Fuck!”

Disoriented, Loki felt for Bruce and found something that seemed to be his thigh—he was sitting up. “What happened?” 

“Nothing.” His voice was strange, muffled. “You must have been having a nightmare or something. You hit me. It’s okay. Go back to sleep, baby.” 

Loki could feel him moving off the bed. “Are you getting up?” 

"I’m taking a piss. Go to sleep.” 

Loki leaned over and turned on the light. Blood was all over Bruce’s pillow. Bruce, standing by the bed looking guilty, held a hand over his nose. The next second, Loki had him by the shoulders. “You’re hurt! Do you need an ambulance?”

Bruce had the audacity to laugh. “I’m fine. My nose might be broken.” 

“I broke your nose???” 

Bruce shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I can fix it. I just need a mirror.” He stroked Loki’s hair away from his face with one hand, the other still holding his nose. “Noses bleed a lot. It looks worse than it is.” 

“I hurt you,” said Loki. “I hurt you just by flailing my arm?” 

“It was an accident, baby. I need to set this so I can put some ice on it.”

Loki followed him to the bathroom and watched him. He flinched as Bruce realigned his nose and followed him to the kitchen. Feeling miserable, he sank onto one of the barstools while Bruce filled the ice pack and poured a glass of soy milk. “Put a shot of something in there, please,” said Loki. “Maybe some amaretto?” 

Bruce blinked at him for a second. “Oh, I was going to take some acetaminophen, but, yeah. One soy amaretto coming up.” He poured some amaretto in the glass of soy milk and set it in front of Loki. He poured another, adding a shot to it as well, and pulled the pills from the cabinet. 

Loki sagged over the breakfast bar, his arms folded around his glass. “I’m so much stronger than you now. It’s so easy to hurt you.” 

Bruce sat beside him. “Now you know how I felt with you and the Hulk.” 

“Except Hulk couldn’t injure me too badly. The Hulk couldn’t kill me.” He looked at Bruce in horror suddenly. “With only a little effort, I could cave your head in. I could kill you five times over without even breaking a sweat.” 

Although the ice pack hid Bruce’s mouth from view, Loki could tell he was smiling. “Okay, not the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me—”

“This isn’t funny.” 

Bruce stroked Loki’s closest hand. “I’m sorry; I know that must be disturbing.” 

“Disturbing? It’s terrifying!” 

“You are so sweet, my prince. So impossibly sweet. Clever. Beautiful. Everything.” He brushed his short nails up Loki’s arm. “Since we’re awake, why don’t we—” 

“This is serious!” Loki’s eyes swam with tears as he looked at Bruce. “This isn’t going to work. I’m too much for you now. I’m a powerful god of Asgard, and you’re—you’re a fragile, mortal scientist. This can’t work.” 

“Right, because we don’t know any couples like that—a powerful god of Asgard and a fragile, mortal scientist. We don’t know a couple, exactly like that, who seem to be negotiating their physical disparities just fine.” 

“Alas.” 

“Really? Remember your brother, the god of thunder, and his mortal Midgardian physicist?”

Loki drew himself up. “You expect me to ask Thor for advice?” 

“I expect you to try _something_ before renouncing our marriage.” 

“I suppose.... Maybe, as unbelievable as it sounds, Thor could have acquired some wisdom about Midgardians.” Loki drained his glass. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” 

Bruce set down the ice pack and smiled at Loki with solemn eyes. “Thank you.”

“But, as you’re well aware, she’s an astrophysicist—they’re much tougher than you nuclear physicists.” 

“That hurt twice as much as my nose.” Bruce grinned. 

Loki laughed lightly, staring into Bruce’s eyes and feeling surrounded by the warm glow of his love. He stroked Bruce’s cheek carefully. Bruce turned his head to kiss Loki’s palm. 

But then Bruce cringed, gripping his forehead. “The Carpenters? Again? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bruce?”

***

Somewhere in Bruce’s head two big green feet waved out of an enormous, bubble-filled bathtub. Hulk bellowed an accompaniment to the sugary love song blasting throughout Bruce’s skull. “WHAAAAA AHHHHH-AH-AHHHHH. CLOSE TO YOU!!!!”

***

Loki held Bruce carefully. “Bruce?”

Bruce shook his head slightly. “I’m okay.” Under his breath he muttered, “Nothing a lobotomy with a mechanical pencil can’t fix.” 

“What?” 

Bruce looked up at him with a slightly dazed expression. “Nothing. Sorry. I have a song stuck in my head, but it’s like someone hacked my playlist.” 

Loki stroked Bruce’s jaw. “How am I going to keep from accidentally breaking your feeble Midgardian body?” 

Bruce ringed Loki’s thumb with his teeth then swirled his tongue around it. “I don’t know,” he said, pausing to speak between tongue flicks. “Maybe I’ll have to restrain you.” 

Loki chilled his fingers and rested them gently against Bruce’s face. “You need to keep this iced. The swelling is getting worse—and your eyes are bruising.” He pressed both cold hands against Bruce’s face. “You’re going to look like a little raccoon with a big red nose.” 

Bruce chuckled. “If ‘little Midgardian scientist’ weren’t bad enough, now you’ve added ‘red-nosed raccoon.’ It’s a good thing my ego isn’t as fragile as my nose. You’d have me in tears.” 

Loki couldn’t help smiling a little. “You sound funny too. It’s really cute.” 

“I’ve always found constricted nasal passages amusing.” 

“You should sing to me.” 

“Uh-huh. What would you have me sing?” 

“Hmm….” Loki looked away coyly, then rested his gaze on Bruce’s with a grin. “ _Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer_?” He snickered as Bruce’s eyes rolled above his fingers. He remembered the favorite song of their friends Christian and Santiago’s daughter. It was full of sibilant sounds. “Or _The Itsy Bitsy Spider_?”

“Evil. You know that’s evil, right?” 

“I’m not evil. I’m mischievous. Now, on three. One, two—The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout….” 

“Loki needs a fisting,” said Bruce, as archly as one could sound with a swollen nose. “A violent fisting.” 

Still singing, Loki pulled his hands away to tease Bruce’s cock, but one look at Bruce’s face sobered him immediately. Bruce was hurt. How could he be thinking of sex when he had hurt Bruce? “My poor Bruce.” Loki returned his spell-chilled hands to Bruce’s face and pressed his lips against forehead. “I’m so sorry.” 

Bruce shrugged. “Maybe we can consider it payback. You sort of owe me, right? I mean, really, you should be flinging me all over the apartment.” He added quickly, “But don’t.”

Loki frowned at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I broke your nose during the Battle of New York. He broke it—we broke it. I.” 

“That’s not the same thing.” 

“Worse, for my part. I meant to hurt you.” His eyes widened slightly, half his face hidden by Loki’s hands. “I still feel bad about that. He gets carried away. Got carried. Anyway, it’s this planet. I love it—and you were threatening it. And he had to stop you.” 

Loki smiled and smoothed one of Bruce’s eyebrows with the tip of his nose. “I know.” 

“I felt so sick when I saw you afterward, when I came to your cell to assess your injuries. It was the first time I’d really seen you up close. I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.” His lashes batted against Loki’s throat. “You were defeated and hurt, but you were so regal, so self-possessed, like a wild animal captured but not tamed.”

“I could feel your awe.” Loki drug his lower lip across Bruce’s other eyebrow and kissed his temple. 

“You liar.” The smile in his voice was obvious. “You barely noticed me. I was an ant and you were an eagle.”

“You were the only one who looked at me with any respect. And you touched my face—not as part of the exam—just because you couldn’t resist.” 

“That was unprofessional.” 

“You couldn’t resssist,” Loki teased. 

“No,” said Bruce, agreeing, his voice hushed. 

Loki pulled away to gaze into Bruce’s eyes. They looked almost as they had that summer day years ago—brown as the heart of Yggdrasil and filled with transcendental wonder. “I wanted you to touch me.” 

“I wanted to touch you more.” 

Loki smirked playfully. “You can touch me now.” He shivered in ticklish delight as Bruce’s hands kneaded up his thighs. Loki moved his hands from Bruce’s face and twinkled his icy fingertips down the sides of Bruce’s neck.

“I love you,” said Bruce softly. “I fell in love with you that day, and I’ve loved you exponentially more every day after. I didn’t expect it. I’ve never loved anyone so much.” 

Loki kissed Bruce’s lips gently, taking his time and being ever so careful. “You taught me what love was,” he told Bruce between kisses. “I never understood it until you.”

***

_A few days later_

Bruce frowned into the bathroom mirror and angled his chin up to shave beneath his jaw. Beside him, back to the counter, Loki flicked his fingers at a big puff of shaving cream in the palm of his other hand. “The bruising around your eyes looks much better,” said Loki, without looking at him, eyes fixed on his shaving cream sculpture.

“Yeah.” Bruce turned on the water to rinse his razor. “It’ll take another few weeks for the bone tissue to fuse, but it’s healing nicely.” As he shaved along the other side, he glanced at Loki. “See? Humans heal too—just not as well nor as fast as you.” 

Loki turned strangely dour. “When freedom from one’s suffering is dependent on metabolism, an hour feels like a day and a day feels like a lifetime.” 

Bruce wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he finished shaving in silence. Loki continued to play with the white puff, his expression grave and intense. Toweling off his face, Bruce asked, “What are you making?” 

Loki moved his hand to give Bruce a better look. “This.” 

Bruce stared at the little sculpture in wordless awe. Carved out of the tiny white mountain atop Loki’s hand was an intricate castle. “That’s so detailed,” Bruce said softly. “It’s perfect.” 

Loki blew the foam into Bruce’s face. He laughed as Bruce, smirking, wiped away the fluff. Bubbles clung stubbornly to his eyebrows and lashes. Loki pulled him into a hug and licked him clean. Bruce intercepted his trickster tongue and drew its sinewy warmth into his mouth. A soft moan rewarded him for the mischievous tongue’s capture. His desire mounted. With a feeling similar to turning into the manifestation of the Hulk, every cell in his body seemed to alter as he became a creature built solely for sex. 

But really, he was just Bruce. And Bruce always had to ask questions. “Wait. Is something going on with you? You seemed to get upset when we were talking about healing.” 

Loki’s eyes changed subtly as he slid off of Bruce. For a moment, Bruce thought Loki was about to lie, but then he traced Bruce’s cheekbone with his narrow fingertips and said, “I remembered how it felt before I learned how to heal myself, that’s all. Just—that sense of vulnerability.” He smiled slightly. “It wasn’t a pleasant memory.” 

“Oh, Loki,” Bruce whispered, hating the part of him that was grateful this had something to do with Loki’s past and not with the Hulk. He tucked a lock of Loki’s hair behind his ear. “I can never understand how anyone would hurt you.” 

Loki glanced sideways, one brow arched. “I wasn’t breathtakingly gorgeous like I am now.” 

Bruce bit back his amusement. “Uh-huh. Okay. Still, hurting someone for not being breathtakingly gorgeous seems quite fucked up.” He slid a hand down Loki’s backside. “Besides, I’m sure you were all sorts of gorgeous.” 

Loki flinched away slightly, his face serious. “No. I wasn’t.” He looked down. “Here, I’ll show you.” He shifted. 

A tall, thin teenaged-looking boy took Loki’s place. Instead of the black silk bathrobe Loki had been wearing, he wore a black tunic trimmed in gold and green over black breeches. A long gold belt accentuated the slenderness of his already slender waist. Likewise, the black hair falling past his shoulders lengthened an already long and angular face. He wasn’t handsome at all—he was pretty. He was the most beautiful boy Bruce had ever seen. 

Loki held Bruce’s gaze for only a moment before glowering at the mirror. “Now do you see?” 

“I’m kind of trying not to hate you right now.” 

Loki peered at himself closely, outlining the angles of his face with his hands. “Dreadful.” His voice was still Loki’s, but slightly higher. 

“Yeah, dreadful the way elves and angels are dreadful. You’re fucking beautiful.”

Loki frowned at Bruce’s image in the mirror instead of at Bruce. “Don’t you see how long my nose is? It’s definitely too long for my face. And look how skinny I am.” 

Bruce didn’t like talking to people in mirrors, so he spoke directly to Loki. “Your nose doesn’t seem to fit because you were growing. In adolescence, people’s features grow at different rates, so sometimes they look unbalanced. And, yeah, you’re thin. So?” 

Loki looked at Bruce as if he were an idiot. “So? Seriously? So?” 

Bruce couldn’t help himself and laughed. “I wish I had a picture from when I was an adolescent. Then you would see what awkward really looks like. Not Asgardian awkward, but truly frightening teenage freakshow awkward.” 

Fuming quietly, Loki glared at him in the mirror. His eyes narrowed, and he cast a glittery green light into Bruce’s face. Bruce sucked a breath. He felt strange. He couldn’t see out of one eye and the other…. 

Loki screamed. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: In this chapter, two adults magically look as they did when they were teenagers and have sex.

Loki held his hands over his mouth and stared at Bruce in horror. Bruce looked in the mirror and understood. He was wearing a blue hospital gown. His swollen, blackened face was a grotesque mask of knots. “What the fuck, Loki?” he managed thickly.

“I can’t actually make you shapeshift the way I do, but I can pull reflections out of time—this is you at fifteen? I—I don’t believe I made an error.” Gingerly, he touched Bruce’s shoulder.

“Fifteen…. Can you select a reflection from a few months later?” He would have liked to discuss this with Loki more, but his injuries made talking difficult.

Loki nodded. He zapped Bruce again. Loki blinked in amazed frustration. “I set a different time reference! What the fuck is wrong?!”

Bruce stared in the mirror. Now, he was wearing a white hospital gown with a small blue print that reminded him of old men’s pajamas. His face was more or less as messed up as before, but the injuries were different. “Oh, right. This was the time one of the broken ribs punctured my lung….” He turned to Loki. “Sorry. That semester kind of sucked. What about in between both dates?”

A burst of green light later, Bruce’s stupid fifteen year old face stared back at him, this time sans bruises and knots. Beside him, Loki—still that slightly imperfect, beautiful youth—stared at him, aghast.

In spite of himself, Bruce smirked at his reflection. A black coat threatened to swallow the slight boy, who was, otherwise, little more than rectangular black plastic glasses and ridiculous hair. “That’s even worse than I remembered. I guess that’s the good thing about not having a lot of pictures—memories fade.”

Pursing his lips, Loki touched the teased hair lifting from Bruce’s head like a rooster’s comb. “What were you doing here?”

“It was the eighties. I’m not going to defend my fashion choices.” He took a step back. “The human brain isn’t fully myelinated until the early twenties. One needs to consider that when judging the decisions of adolescents.”

Loki leered close. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“A little.”

Loki burst out laughing.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Glad I could be of service.” Loki continued to laugh. “Yeah, that was fun,” said Bruce. “Let’s get back to our Sunday morning. How about pancakes? Do pancakes sound good?” Loki still laughed. Bruce sighed. “You realize we’re moving past humorous and starting into hurtful now, right?”

Loki gasped. “No! You’re adorable! You’re too fucking adorable!” He attempted to run his fingers through Bruce’s hair, but they got stuck in a thicket of mouse and hair spray. “I see what you mean about Asgardian awkward versus Midgardian awkward.” He pulled off Bruce’s glasses and tried them on. They looked disgustingly cute on him.

Bruce stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat and stared down at his black workman’s boots. “I’m not actually me at fifteen. So, what is this exactly? You said you could pull reflections out of time?”

“No, you’re you, just as I’m still me when I shapeshift. It’s like we’re playing dress up with other skins. Old skins in your case.” Admiring himself in the mirror, Loki slid the glasses down the bridge of his nose and struck poses. “These kind of work.”

“On you, because you’re beautiful and you make anything work.” Bruce sighed. Loki never shared the secrets of his magic. He always maintained—

“I can’t tell you how it works ‘exactly’ because you wouldn’t be able to understand it. It would be like you trying to explain nucleosynthesis to a dog.”

“And what would you say if you didn’t love me?”

Loki blinked innocently and returned Bruce’s glasses to his face. He caressed Bruce’s brow, his youthful face pensive. “Those knots,” he said softly. “You were beaten. Horribly beaten.”

Bruce shrugged, feeling somehow embarrassed by Loki’s attentions. “I got in fights all the time when I was younger. I guess the two beatings that landed me in the hospital at fifteen weren’t really fights, though. They were more like attacks; I got swarmed.” He smiled at Loki. “But I survived them. That’s what matters.”

Loki stared at him with glassy eyes. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I survived exactly. When I was bullied—they took something. Or I left something behind. It changed me.”

“But you came out the other side.” Bruce cupped Loki’s face. “Some Buddhist sects believe our bodies are just a means to experience happiness, suffering, love—they’re just vehicles collecting data. I thought about that when you said we’re wearing our old skins and playing dress up. Maybe, in a way our lives are just the universe wearing skins, experimenting. So, whatever your experiences, whatever they wrought, maybe they help the universe understand itself.”

Loki wrapped around him and kissed him as if he were trying to draw venom from a wound. Bruce reciprocated, hungrily devouring Loki’s mouth. He pulled off his glasses and put them on the bathroom counter. “No, leave them on,” Loki whispered.

Bruce laughed. “They’re fogging up; I can’t see. Contacts are so much better.”

Loki stuck out his lower lip, so Bruce caught it between his teeth. He ran his hands roughly down Loki’s sides and pressed him against the wall. Loki chuckled into Bruce’s mouth, his delicate hands sliding up Bruce’s shoulders and freeing him of the black coat. It fell to the tile with a fabric cough and a tinkle of zippers and hidden objects.

Kissing and munching Loki’s neck and shoulder, Bruce unbuckled Loki’s long belt. Without looking at it, he set it on the bathroom counter. He slid a hand beneath Loki’s tunic to touch the smooth skin of his stomach. Loki hissed in his ear.

Bruce paused. “Loki. These bodies— We’re really us, so physiologically, we’re us?”

“Yes, of course.” Loki peered at him with a wry smile. “What’s wrong, Bruce?”

Bruce indicated his image in the mirror with a tilt of his head. “If he lasts three minutes, it’s a record.”

Loki howled, clutching Bruce’s shoulder.

“And he’s a virgin.”

Loki stopped laughing. “So this would be your first time?”

“Yeah. My first time wasn’t until after the last attack, after I turned sixteen.”

“Awww…” Loki stroked Bruce’s face. “Sweet little virginal Bruce.” Simpering, he kissed Bruce’s chin. “What was your first time like?”

“Amazing. Bittersweet, I guess. But amazing.”

“All three minutes of it?”

Bruce squeezed Loki’s balls through the soft black breeches and laughed against Loki’s giggling neck. “Three minutes might be generous.” He struggled not to laugh. “I met some older guy in a used bookstore. He let me fuck him in one of the stalls in the restroom.”

“The height of romance!”

“Somewhat. He slipped a miniature collection of Blake’s _Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience_ into my back pocket. But I never saw him again.” He snorted in embarrassment. “I lurked around that bookstore for nearly two months, hoping to see him. Pathetic, huh?”

Subdued, Loki stared into his eyes. “No. That doesn’t seem like the right word to me.”

Bruce caressed Loki’s cheek. “How strange is it that I’m not ashamed to admit to having sex with a stranger in a public restroom, but I feel humiliated saying that I wanted a relationship with him—wanted it to mean something?”

Loki’s eyes were blue-green pools. “I suppose in Midgard, as in Asgard, men are discouraged from having feelings. Lust is acceptable. But feelings are for women.” He looked down, outlining the letters on Bruce’s shirt: Killing Joke. “My first time…was around this age. It was painful…. He didn’t love me…. He didn’t even like me.” He smiled sadly at Bruce. “At least you got a book.”

Bruce hugged Loki gently. “I would have rather had you.”

Loki sniffled. “You would have given me the best three minutes of my life.” He giggled as Bruce snuck his hands inside Loki’s tunic and tickled his sides. They wrestled for a second, then Loki hugged Bruce tight. “Let’s have a do over,” Loki said. “Let’s pretend we’re both innocent boys on the brink of manhood.”

“Okay….”

“I stole away to Midgard on one of my explorations. And….” He closed his eyes and bent his lovely neck to the side, luxuriating as Bruce caressed one of his delicate ears. His eyes snapped open, full of mischief. “I am searching for ancient tomes in a used bookstore—” He covered Bruce’s mouth to stop his laughter. “—when I happen to catch the gaze of a handsome Midgardian lad. His face is young, but his eyes—” Loki peered into Bruce’s eyes with a poignant expression. “Are so wise and sad.”

Bruce picked up the baton and ran with it. “And he can’t stop gawking at you because he’s a complete and utter dork, and you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen. Even the most beautiful men who inhabit his dreams are nothing compared to you. Wherever you walk, the light follows you. Everything else turns dark. Even the light can’t help falling in love with you.” He stroked the edge of Loki’s lower lip with his thumb. “What chance does a silly Midgardian boy have when even the light can’t resist?”

Loki stared at him with huge, dilated eyes. “And then I grab you by the arm, and we run into the restroom.” He grinned. “I seal the door with a spell, and we tear off all of our clothes!” They pulled away each other’s clothing with a plethora of giggles and squirming.

When they were done, Bruce entwined his fingers with Loki’s and kissed him with an excess of tenderness and caution. He explored his sorcerer’s young body with tentative fingers and a tongue which questioned as much as it probed. This was not at all how things had gone in the bookstore years ago, but he wanted to play Loki’s game. He wanted to make this as sweet and perfect as Loki deserved.

Loki grinned and pulled him into the shower. “And then it started to rain.”

“In the bookstore?”

Loki turned on the water. “I’m a sorcerer, remember? Maybe I cast a spell.”

Bruce laughed. He kissed Loki under the fount of hot water. He descended to suck Loki’s cock, but Loki knelt with him. “What are you doing?”

“I want to go first.”

Bruce lifted the sorcerer’s sheet of sodden hair off his shoulder. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Loki looked at him with large, beautiful eyes. “But I know I want it.”

Bruce kissed him, then stood. He stroked Loki’s wet face as Loki kissed and licked his shaft. Loki’s soft lips were cool against his skin, but the depths of his mouth were even warmer than the water spraying down Bruce’s back. Loki lubed a finger with saliva and pre-cum and slid it carefully into Bruce’s hole. A wave of pleasure lifted through Bruce’s viscera as Loki’s long, slender finger massaged his prostate. A small moan escaped his lips as his sensitive glans sank into the lush velvet of Loki’s soft palate.

Bruce caressed Loki’s thin, sharp-angled shoulders. He stroked around Loki’s ear and trailed a wet finger along Loki’s flexing jaw. Loki’s intense, blue-green eyes stared at him the entire time.

Things always felt magical with Loki. It wasn’t simply that the sorcerer worked magic—he was magic. Its essence infused his every movement, his every cell. Bizarrely, Bruce had almost become accustomed to Loki’s use of it. It almost seemed commonplace. But then, something like this would happen.

They were just costumes, really—these skins from their youth. But somewhere between the drone of the water, the swirling steam and Loki’s silly game—something changed. Looking down, watching Loki—a waif made of moonstone—kiss and suck him, Bruce couldn’t avoid seeing his own young body. It was a weak, skinny vessel crafted of wire and sarcasm. And somehow he felt as if he were that boy again, the insecure boy who was constantly preyed upon by bullies, who feared he would die a virgin, whose only friend was a surly giant in his head.

But here was Loki—more wonderful than anyone that boy had ever imagined—naked, kneeling, loving him. Bruce felt strangely overwhelmed. He hoped Loki wouldn’t notice.

In an instant, Loki’s face was next to his, peering at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. He stroked alongside Bruce’s nose. “Are you crying?”

“Maybe. A little.”

Loki hugged him hard enough to knock him slightly off balance. “Oh, Bruce,” Loki said softly, his voice far gentler than his hug. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Bruce frowned in embarrassment. “No. It’s just….” He hesitated. “I guess I thought I was doing this for you, and then I realized it’s for me too.” He trailed his fingers down Loki’s chest. “This is already so much better than the bookstore.”

Loki laughed and kissed him. As they kissed, Bruce backed Loki against the wall. He pressed against Loki, devouring his mouth. Their cocks, caught between them, throbbed with exuberance. Bruce’s mouth hummed as Loki purred in response to a long sweep of tongue.

Bruce alternated between massaging and lightly skimming Loki’s sides and ass. Loki ground his cock against him. Bruce pulled away from Loki’s mouth and paused to drink in his beauty. How Loki could have ever imagined himself anything less than— Beautiful…. The wet boy pressed against him was as pale as bone china and as delicate as a fawn. If muscle-bound Thor was the ideal of Asgardian masculinity, the beautiful youth before him couldn’t have been farther from it.

Poor Loki. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed. “You’re too beautiful for Asgard.” He kissed his way down Loki’s body, pausing to suck and nibble nipples, ribs and hipbones. “You’re intelligent and magical and perfect.”

Loki combed his long fingers through Bruce’s wet hair. “You’re perfect too.”

Bruce knelt before his young Norse god and worshipped his cock, mouthing it from the wet raven down at its base to its swollen, blushing tip. His fingernails grazed Loki’s pale, skinny thighs as he sucked his beautiful cock. He stopped to kiss and fondle Loki’s balls while nuzzling that insistent cock with his cheek.

He kissed Loki’s rim, then danced the tip of his tongue around it while cupping Loki’s sack. He sucked Loki’s hole gently, then pushed his tongue inside, probing its warmth. He tumbled Loki’s balls and pushed deeper inside him. He stretched…and found Loki’s prostate.

Loki shivered with delight and soft little noises. Bruce smoothed a hand up Loki’s flat belly, rubbing from his silken pubic hair to his thin chest. He licked Loki’s hole, then played with his ass while he sucked his cock. He basked in each of Loki’s sweet, hushed murmurs, each quivering shift of breath, each joyous moan.

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he told Loki, rising slowly. He pressed his wet forehead to Loki’s. “You’re spectacular.” He kissed each of Loki’s shoulders, then pressed him against the wall.

Bruce fucked Loki gently from behind, hugging his slender hips and working his cock. He kissed and chewed Loki’s shoulders, fucking him a little harder, a little faster. Loki’s sweet moans echoed against the tiles.

They came together, then held each other amid the steam and falling water for a while before soaping and shampooing each other clean.

They toweled each other off, kissing and buffing and massaging each other dry. When they were done, Loki wiped the fog off the mirror and combed his long hair. Bruce pulled his coat off the floor and felt around its various pockets. “I wonder if there’s a joint here somewhere.” He threw some lip balm at Loki. “Yuk. Younger me didn’t think twice about using petroleum products.”

Loki pulled the cap off the lip balm and sniffed. “Younger you needed his ass kicked.” He flashed an alarmed look at Bruce. “I didn’t mean you deserved—”

Bruce smiled. “It’s okay, baby. I knew what you meant.” He fished out a condom. “This was some wishful thinking.” He stashed it back in the pocket. “Keep dreaming, kid.”

“You’re mean.” Loki grinned. “Good thing he can’t hear you.”

“Here. This is probably sad.” He slapped a little notebook on the counter next to Loki.

Loki opened it and giggled. “You had a spell book?”

Bruce cocked his head. “No, that’s— Maybe so, actually. It’s full of proofs, physics, schematics for a bomb—that sort of thing.” He smirked as Loki leafed through it. “I didn’t mean for you to read it. I just thought you would find it ridiculous.”

Loki held the notebook to his chest. “On the contrary, I find it wonderful.”

“What about this?”

Loki took the eyeliner with a trill of delight. While Bruce continued to explore his coat, Loki gave himself a mock mole.

Bruce unfolded a wadded scrap of paper. “Oh,” he breathed.

Loki leaned close to read the crumpled paper. “ _The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be. –Ralph Waldo Emmerson_.” He frowned at Bruce. “That’s not your handwriting.”

Bruce smiled at him. “No. It’s my Aunt Susan’s. I lived with her after my mother died—when my father went away. She used to put little notes in my lunch sometimes. Quotes like this. Sometimes just ‘I love you,’ or ‘hang in there’—things like that.”

“Like those quotes you sent me every day when we first got together.”

“No—” He blinked at Loki. “Yes. I hadn’t realized it until now.”

“That’s sweet,” said Loki, stroking the paper.

“It is,” said Bruce. “But I didn’t think so at the time. I thought it was absurd. I wanted her to stop.”

Loki frowned at him. “She loved you.”

“She did.” He swallowed. “She took me in. She believed I was gifted, that I would do extraordinary things some day.”

“She should have been at our wedding! Why haven’t I met her?”

Loki’s peeved tone made Bruce smirk at him, but the answer made him sigh. “She’s dead. I left for college when I was sixteen; she was diagnosed with late stage ovarian cancer and died a short time later.” He held Loki’s head. “All the family I have in the world was at our wedding—you and Jen.” He added with a grin, “And Tony—my brother from another mother.”

Loki stared at him in silence. “That’s why it’s so important to you that Tony and I get along.”

“Yes.” He was surprised that Loki was just now absorbing this, but welcomed the breakthrough.

Loki turned over the paper strip and read the other side out loud, “ _You’re the greatest, Goosey!_ ” He looked at Bruce strangely. “You’re Goosey?”

“Bruce-Goose,” Bruce said in a tight voice. “Her pet name for me. It morphed into Goosey if she was really happy.”

Loki studied him closely. “Your aunt was a sorceress?”

“No. She was a dental hygienist.” Bruce couldn’t withhold a small smile. “Definitely not a sorceress.”

Loki didn’t share his amusement. “Obviously, she possessed an impressive awareness of animal magic and symbolism.”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“To identify the goose as one of your totem animals—that takes a certain talent. One usually finds it in those who practice magic or have some knowledge of the arcane arts.”

Bruce stroked Loki’s shoulder. “It rhymes with Bruce. Midgardians love rhymes. Some more than others. It was just a silly term of endearment.” He gave Loki’s shoulder a slight shake. “Other than rhyming with my name, what exactly do you think I have in common with a goose for fuck’s sake?”

Loki shrugged. “I can think of a number of things. Geese symbolize faithfulness, self-sacrifice, protectiveness, compassion.”

“That’s flattering, but…geese?”

“They’re very loyal to the members of their flock. When they’re migrating, if a goose becomes sick or disabled, another will stay with it until it’s able to travel again or until it dies. Geese are fiercely protective of their families. And they mate for life.” Loki’s eyes watered.

Bruce grabbed him and buried his face against Loki’s neck. “How do you turn something silly into something that makes me want to cry?” He rubbed Loki’s back gratefully.

“Your aunt’s the one who named you.”

“But you’re the one who made me see it differently.” He squeezed Loki tighter. “You don’t only shift your own shape, you reshape everything around you.” They held each other for a long time. When they parted, Bruce, sniffling, picked up the strip of paper and placed it in the teak box where they kept the incense.

“No,” said Loki. “Put it back in the pocket of your coat. You can’t keep it.”

Bruce stared at him in dismay. “Why? What will it hurt?”

“It isn’t real. It’s just a reflection. We can use the items here, but they won’t last.”

Bruce touched the writing. “But I don’t have anything of hers. It’s like she never existed.”

“I’m sorry,” said Loki softly, sliding a hand up Bruce’s back.

“She didn’t have anyone else—just me. She loved me. And I was such a sullen dick. I rarely had conversations with her, I worried her constantly, and I tried to pretend I didn’t know her if we were out.” He addressed the wet-haired boy in the mirror. “You worthless piece of shit. You never even hugged her.” He turned his back on the youth with a sniff. “Idiot.”

Loki’s long, thin fingers swept Bruce’s damp forelock out of his eyes. “Don’t talk to him like that,” he whispered. “He was just a boy. His brain wasn’t fully myelinated.”

“He can’t hear me.”

“No, but I can.” Loki stroked Bruce’s jaw. “Whatever he did, whatever his flaws, that boy grew into the man I love and admire more than any other. Be gentle with him; he’s mine.”

Bruce smiled at Loki self-consciously, caught Loki’s wrist and kissed the backs of his fingers. He held Loki’s hand to his chest, thinking. “I can’t keep the note, but can I send something back?”

Loki frowned. “Like what? There are ways to do such a thing, but—”

“Great.” Bruce pulled out the little notebook and started writing on the first blank page with the eyeliner pencil. “I’ll send not-quite-myelinated me a message.”

“Bruce, you can’t disrupt the timeline. Timelines are fragile.”

Bruce handed Loki the notebook. “Will that be okay?”

Loki read aloud, “Hug your aunt; she loves you.” He smiled. “Yes. You can send that to my little Goosey.”

“You made me like that nickname better, but don’t call me that.”

Loki hugged him. “As you wish, Thug-daddy.”

***

_1984, Bruce is 15_

Bruce cringed above his notebook and the cryptic message scrawled in black eyeliner. “What the fuck?” He stared over his hunched shoulder. “Hulk? Did you do this?”

He tapped his ballpoint against the glass dining table. The sound of keys in the door snapped him around in his rattan-backed chair. Susan, arms hung with shopping bags, smiled at him as she entered. “Hey, Goosey,” she said with the most dreadful good cheer. “Homework? Or are you unraveling the mysteries of the universe?”

He withered slightly. “Neither.” As she bustled merrily around him, covering the dining table with her latest consumer follies, he closed the notebook and vacated his seat. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re never in my way, Bruce-Goose.” She squeezed his shoulder.

He withheld a groan. She was too busy to notice. Her silly fishnet hair ribbon—a Madonna-inspired fashion accessory for which his aunt was at least a decade too old—bobbed as she sorted through the shopping bags. Her oversized white sweatshirt proclaimed, ‘peace’ in huge neon pink letters, the obnoxious color echoed by her geometric-printed leggings and angora legwarmers. “Yeah,” said Bruce. “I have to….” He backed slowly away from her.

She looked up at him. Her forehead creased slightly. “Don’t you wanna see what I got for you?”

 _No._ He halted. “Sure.”

She smiled and pulled fabric bounty from the rustling bags. “Check out these underpants! Aren’t they the cutest?” She shook some brightly-colored boxers in his face. Neon green geese ate neon pink watermelon slices on the topmost pair.

Bruce swallowed. “Okay.” He inspected the cluster of underwear in more detail. “I’m not sure why the sharks need surfboards. I suppose one could make a case for the sunglasses considering the anthropomorphism, but the surfboards….”

She beamed. “I’m glad you like them.” She handed him a bag. “And here are some purple socks. You like purple, right? They had a bunch of them—on sale! So, I bought ‘em all. Oh—” She stuck another bag inside it. “And more of those little notebooks you like.”

“Cool.” Bruce started to take his new crap to his room when he remembered the commandment in his notebook. It was never a good idea to make Hulk angry. He stopped and gave his aunt an awkward hug. She made a strange, surprised little noise and wrapped her arms around him. She pressed her face against the side of his neck. Her big plastic earrings were cold against his skin. Crisp, scrunched curls tickled his nose.

The soft warmth of her body surprised him. He realized then that he had lived with her four years without ever hugging her. Actually, he hadn’t hugged anyone since his mother died…his mother whom he had loved more than anything, who was the sister of the woman he now held. The entire time he had lived with his aunt, he had treated her with either tepid affection or total indifference, never recognizing her sacrifice and never thanking her for taking him in.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For being a burden.”

“No.” Susan pulled away to look at him, wiping her eyes. “You’ve never been a burden.” Smiling, she squeezed his arms. “You’re the best thing in my life, Goosey. The best thing. No matter what, you’ll always have a place here.”

He hugged her again, a little less stiffness in his arms this time. “I love you,” he said in a small voice.

***

_The present_

Bruce woke and stretched, feeling somewhat reluctant to shake off the warm contentment his dream had spread like a cloak around his mind. He flipped over to hug Loki and found a huge tiger sprawled beside him. “I love post-coital Sunday naps,” he mumbled and pressed his torso against the tiger’s spine. He slung an arm around the beast and rubbed down its side.

The tiger’s stomach rumbled. Bruce yawned. “I’m hungry too. Since we didn’t have pancakes for breakfast, what about pancakes for lunch?” The tiger’s tail lashed against the mattress. “Okay. But I’m craving maple syrup. What about french toast? Do tigers like french toast?”

Loki’s phone rang. The tiger sat up, rubbed his head against Bruce’s shoulder, and shifted into Loki. Loki answered his phone. “Steve?” he yawned. “Is something wrong?” He swung his legs off the bed. “Why?!”

Bruce sat up. Loki had gone from sleepy to furious in two seconds. “What’s going on?”

Loki shushed him with a waving hand. “Yes, we’ll be there in an hour.” He hung up the phone with a snarl.

Bruce laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Baby?”

Loki trembled with rage. “Stark. Stark has called a meeting to vote on my removal.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get rather ugly. Please try to trust me. I enjoy winding things in dramatic knots, but I enjoy untying them even more.


	10. Chapter 10

Bruce smiled at Pepper as she greeted him and Loki in the atrium outside the large living area where the Avengers often conducted their meetings. With a tense expression, she nodded to Bruce, then pulled Loki away to talk to him in private.

Bruce walked around the atrium, admiring the new paintings there. He turned when the elevator doors opened and grinned when Tony marched out. Bruce fell in lockstep beside him. “Okay,” he said in a low voice, “you did it. You’ve fooled everyone. Well done. But we need to start this now—Loki thinks it’s real, and he’s beside himself.”

Tony halted and stared at Bruce. “What are you talking about?”

“This!” said Bruce. “This is a surprise birthday party, right? You probably have a giant cake in there filled with strippers. Female strippers, because you suck with details like I’m gay and my birthday’s actually next month.”

“Didn’t we just celebrate your birthday? No, maybe that was Steve’s.” Tony shrugged. “What’s this shit about a birthday? We’re here to vote Loki out of the Avengers.”

Bruce’s cheerful denial slammed against a wall and landed in a heap at his feet. “This…is real? Tony? Tony, this can’t be real.”

“It needs to be done. I’m the one to do it.”

“Smile,” Bruce ordered, taking hold of Tony’s shoulder and getting in his face.

“What?” Tony brushed Bruce off him.

Bruce stayed close. “I’m trying to ascertain whether or not you’ve had a brain aneurism.”

“I haven’t.” Tony scowled. “Loki doesn’t belong in the Avengers. He never has. It’s time to put an end to this farce.”

“Maybe this is metabolic?” He took Tony’s arm. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s all going to be okay. We’ll just head down to Lab Five, do a full workup, roast a bowl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.” He pulled Tony toward the elevator.

Tony didn’t budge. “I love how you assume something’s wrong with me and not the other way around.”

Bruce looked into Tony’s handsome face and felt chilled. This was not his wise-cracking, science-geeking smoking buddy. This was the steely-eyed captain of industry who sauntered into meetings with CEO’s and heads of state and pushed through his agenda with silverback dominance. Bruce had only caught glimpses of this side of his friend, and he had enjoyed each of them. Watching Tony Stark blaze into a room and move aside obstacles as if he were some industrialist version of Ganesh was an exhilarating thing to behold…when one was on his side. Bruce had never stood in front of Tony’s bulldozer. “What? Why are you doing this?”

“It needs to be done, and I’m the only one with the brains to see it and the balls to do it. As usual.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. You like Loki, for the most part. You supported his addition to the Avengers. Why are you objecting to his presence now?”

Tony snorted. “I do like Loki. I like him just fine when he’s your arm candy or Pepper’s shopping buddy. I don’t support his participation in the Avengers without Hulk there to stop him if he suddenly decides to go rogue. He’s never been trustworthy. He’s always one bad hair day away from completely losing his shit.”

“He’s changed,” said Bruce. “He’s completely trustworthy.”

“He’s impulsive and crazy. He’s about as trustworthy as Charles Manson.”

“Come on. That’s ridiculous.”

Tony stared at Bruce resolutely. “I’m serious. When I’m out there risking my ass, I need to know the people around me have my back. I mean, fuck, man. Do you even remember the Battle of New York? I can’t fucking forget it.”

Bruce instantly felt like shit. “Have you been having nightmares again?” Tony wasn’t the sort to ask for help. The little boy, forced to become self-sufficient at an early age by parents who ignored him, had grown into a man who needed his friends to recognize when he required extra attention. Bruce had been so wrapped up in de-hulking and Loki, he had neglected his friend. He smoothed a hand down Tony’s arm. “Call this off. Let’s go talk, sort this out by ourselves.”

Tony pulled away. “You don’t get it do you? Loki’s a liability. Fuck! Even you have to admit he’s volatile. He’s fucking nitroglycerin. He goes batshit if someone confuses _The Hobit_ with _Game of Thrones_.”

“To be fair,” Bruce said in a small voice, “they _are_ very different.”

Tony stared at him with indulgent superiority and the barest trace of a smile. Bruce grinned inwardly. Almost. Just a few more nudges in the right places…. He had become quite expert at this, really. He was a fucking Tony Whisperer. It— “Wait. You said—when the Hulk was around…you had no problem with Loki as an Avenger?”

“Right.”

“You believed this before we built the Sarcophagus?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. And then struck by lightning. “You felt this way, and yet you said nothing.”

“That’s right.”

“Why??? How could you let me do _that_ knowing you would do _this_?”

“Because somebody should look out for your self-interests even if you won’t,” said Tony. “I knew if I said anything, you wouldn’t go through with the procedure—something you’ve wanted for years. I knew you would give it up for the sake of your boytoy because you’re a dick-whipped doormat.”

“Loki is NOT my boytoy. He’s my husband. And—”

“You’re still a dick-whipped doormat. You used to be a man, Bruce. You used to stand up for yourself. To your dad, to bullies, to your government, to villains. But you let this stunted Jotun tail completely emasculate you. I try to tolerate it, but it’s fucking sickening.”

“That’s not the way it is.”

“What about that position at Cornell?”

Bruce grimaced in disbelief. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You could have been a full professor there. In Ithaca. You’d fucking love Ithaca. So, more money, more status, doing a job you’d prefer in a place you’d like living in better than the city. But no. You turned it down because Loki loves shopping here and getting Pepper to buy him shit. He didn’t give a fuck what you wanted or what might be best for you because he’s a selfish fucking child.”

“We discussed it and made the decision according to our needs. And it’s none of your damn business!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re so blind where he’s concerned. It’s pathetic, Bruce. It’s fucking pathetic.”

“How can you not understand?” Bruce’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You know me. You know more than anyone—more than Loki. You know…god—you know everything.” He searched Tony’s face. “How can you not understand?”

“I understand. You’re so desperate for someone to love you, you’ll be anybody’s little bitch.” He grinned. “Pretty good, right? Few more _Dr. Phil_ ’s on the treadmill and I can start charging fees.”

Bruce couldn’t say anything. He was too angry to speak. Inside his head, Hulk lunged forward, vying for control. Bruce could practically feel him beating against his skin.

“Look,” said Tony, authority in his voice. “You need to calm down. This isn’t personal. I didn’t do anything to hurt you. I didn’t lie to you.”

“No, you just think I’m weak and pathetic. And you purposely left out some vital information when I was making one of the most important decisions of my life. Yeah, no big deal.”

“I didn’t tell you my position,” Tony said briskly, “because I knew you would choose that spoiled tyrant over something you wanted and needed. Fuck, you make it sound like I’m an asshole, but I did it because I love you.”

“Because you love me?!” Only Bruce’s outrage kept him from laughing. He struggled to stay in control. “You don’t know anything about that word, do you? You can’t buy it or engineer it, so it’s outside your field of knowledge.”

Arms crossed over his chest, Tony smirked at Bruce. “You realize you’re not insulting me with that, right?”

Bruce was not amused. “Loving me doesn’t give you the right to manipulate me or make decisions for me—especially when they affect my family. You had no right to keep this secret from me—not something this important. And you have no right to disparage my relationship.”

“Your relationship?” Tony scoffed. “He’s a parasite. Dogs have better relationships with ticks.”

“Like you would know. You’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met, but you’re an emotional coward. You hold everyone at arm’s length—hide behind your little jokes and that stupid bluster. You aren’t heartless; you’re gutless.”

Tony’s eyes blazed. His face was centimeters from Bruce’s. “Yeah, it’s so much better to be Mister Rogers with PMS. You’re the most irrational scientist ever. You’ve always been a little bitch, but I liked you. But I can’t stand you as that alien wackjob’s thrall.”

“Thrall?” Bruce laughed mirthlessly. “I realize compromise and unselfishness must seem odd to you, but they’re fundamental to my being. I’m not going to abandon my principles simply because you disapprove.”

Tony shrugged. “Whatever. You can thank me later. But now I need to go in there and make sure your deranged husband gets kicked to the curb.” He started toward the tall double doors.

“Tony!” Bruce stepped in front of him. “If you go through with this, you do so at the cost of our friendship.”

Tony eyed him coldly. “Yeah? Your friendship hasn’t been worth much these days.”

As Tony pushed past him, Bruce grabbed his shoulder and swung him around. “When you hurt him, you hurt me!”

“Aww,” said Tony. “You’re angry. I don’t give a shit when you’re angry.” He shoved Bruce backward. “Watch where you put your hands. Remember, I have a suit and you have….” He stroked his chin, pretending to muse. “Oh, that’s right. Nothing.”

Bruce could only stare at him, queasy with betrayal and restrained anger. His nails dug into his palms. He didn’t care if Tony beat him up—it would be worth it if he could land just a couple of solid punches on that smug face. He took a deep breath. Getting into a fistfight would do nothing to help Loki.

Tony smirked. “You’re back in Kansas, Dorothy. Better get used to black and white.” He left Bruce standing in the atrium.

Bruce stared after him. In the aftermath of the confrontation, his sadness felt equal to his rage. The counterbalance helped keep Hulk at bay, but it made him feel dulled and sick. He was grateful when Loki joined him, shining like daylight into his gloom.

“Bruce,” Loki said softly, peering into Bruce’s face with concern and rubbing his chest. “I heard the last bit of that. What happened?”

“I got torn apart by flying monkeys.” He smiled at Loki, but it took all the strength he could muster. Some part of him wanted to huddle in a corner and sob, but he knew Loki needed him, and he had long ago shut the door on the little boy who cried in corners. Whatever Tony thought of him, he had been a man for a long time.

***

Loki sat beside Bruce and watched the others take their seats. Bruce reached over and took his hand. Loki glanced at him appreciatively. No matter what, Bruce was always there for him. If he felt too emotionally volatile to argue his case, he knew Bruce would be his voice, asserting his position with calm reason.

“Bruce can’t stay,” said Tony, crunching an ice cube and leaning back in his chair.

Bruce crushed Loki’s hand and looked at Tony so hatefully that Loki was reminded of Hulk.

“Why not?” asked Natasha.

“This isn’t the Avengers and plus ones,” said Tony. “He isn’t one of us anymore. He doesn’t belong here.”

Clint leaned back with a groan. “There’s always got to be a drama.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Bruce. “I’m an Avenger.”

Tony smirked at him. “Not anymore. You’re just fucking an Avenger. You’re no more an Avenger than Pepper or Jane.”

“He _is_ a civilian now,” said Thor.

“Exactly,” said Tony. “The fate of the Avengers is for us to decide, not civilians.”

Loki could tell by Bruce’s silence that Bruce agreed. He could tell by Bruce’s pallor that he hated it. Loki swallowed back a cold wave of dread. He let his chin lift slightly. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

“He stays,” said Steve. “As a consultant.” He looked an apology at Loki and Bruce. “He doesn’t get a vote, but he stays.”

“To do what exactly?” asked Tony. “To be a lobbyist for Loki? To hold Loki’s hand? He has absolutely no right to be here.” He leaned forward and stared straight at Bruce. “You wanted a normal life. Go live it.”

Thor nodded. “He has a point. Avengers’ business should only be for Avengers. Banner is no longer an Avenger.”

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” said Clint, “but I have to agree. Keeping you as a consultant seems fine, but we’re not here to discuss something about nuclear physics or medicine. It doesn’t make sense.”

Natasha frowned at him. “His observations are always useful. And he’s been with us since the beginning.”

“But he’s not one of us anymore,” said Clint.

“I’ll call Nick and let him weigh in on this,” said Tony, pulling out his phone. “I’m sure he won’t mind us bothering him on his vacation.”

“That’s alright,” said Steve. He sighed. “Bruce, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to leave.”

Loki brushed Bruce’s thigh. “I’ll be fine,” he said in a thin voice. He sat very straight and tried to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want Bruce worrying about him, and he didn’t want the others to see how devastated he felt at Bruce’s dismissal.

“You will.” Bruce gave Loki a rueful smile and pulled Loki’s hand to his lips. He kissed Loki’s knuckles. When Bruce rested Loki’s hand on the couch and stood, Loki felt as if his arm were being hacked mercilessly from his shoulder. His arm, his heart, his shadow, the ground beneath his feet—all of it wrenched away by people he had believed were their friends.

Loki blinked quickly to obscure his tears. He armed himself with an ironic smirk. “Ta ta, love. See you in few.”

Bruce started to leave. He paused in front of Tony. “All this time I thought that self-absorbed dick bit was an act. But when you say you care, you mean only if it doesn’t inconvenience you, and only if it yields something you can use. I’m not sure what that is, Tony, but it’s not love.”

Tony crossed an ankle over his knee and smiled up at Bruce. “It’s called winning.”

“I won’t counter that. I know how important it is to you to have the last word.”

“Right, because you know so much.”

“Q.E.D.” Bruce walked out.

“Asshole,” Tony yelled after him. Tony turned a smile on the group. “Now, where were we? Oh, right. Making sausage out of Reindeer Games. So, here’s the deal. When we brought the god of hair gel into the Avengers, we did so with Hulk and Thor available to subdue him if anything went wrong. Hulk’s no longer here, so Loki shouldn’t be either.”

Tony turned his smug grin to Loki alone. “Just look at him. He wants to fireball each one of us right now. He’s danger with horns. He’s an unstable, undependable mess. As someone once said, you can smell the crazy on him.”

“Brother,” said Thor, “try to resist doing anything you might soon regret.”

Loki snorted in disbelief. “You don’t know me half as well as you think you do.” He turned away from Tony and Thor, looking instead at Clint, Natasha and Steve. “I think what just happened here was incredibly fucked up. And part of me doesn’t care if you decide to vote me out. Part of me wants nothing more to do with any of you. But this isn’t a social club. I’m not here to make friends.” His gaze swept over all of them. “I’m here to make a difference.”


	11. Chapter 11

A brittle silence hung in the air. Tony shattered it. “Words,” said the industrialist. “Words don’t mean anything. I can say I’m a feminist or the Loch Ness Monster. That doesn’t make it so.”

Before Loki could reply, Natasha said, “What about actions? Loki has fought alongside us for over a year and never turned against us. He saved my life during the last battle. Since he joined, I think he’s saved all of us at least once.” She cast an approving glance at Loki. “As far as I’m concerned, Loki’s an Avenger.”

“He’s batshit,” said Tony. “He’s rash and unpredictable.”

Thor nodded. “He is impulsive. He changes the rules when it suits him.”

“Yeah, he’s impulsive,” said Clint. “But these days, his impulses seem good. I don’t think being agile in the field is a bad thing. He adapts well to new situations. That’s a talent, not a flaw.”

“His judgment in the past has been more than flawed,” said Tony.

“So was yours,” said Loki.

Natasha smirked. Tony scowled at her. Thor stroked his chin and sighed. “Loki has fought well,” he said. “And bravely. That should count for something.”

Steve frowned at Tony. “Your argument against Loki is that Hulk isn’t here to pacify him, but I think Hulk being gone is even more of a reason for Loki to stay. We’re down a man—and it’s like being down several. We need all hands on deck, everyone at their stations. This isn’t the time to kick people off the team.”

The discussion went back and forth. When, at last, the vote was held, only Tony voted to bar Loki. While Tony sulked, Loki looked around at his fellow Avengers in gratitude and awe. They hadn’t done this as a favor to Bruce. Loki was one of them now. For the first time, he felt truly accepted.

***

Loki found Bruce waiting for him on the sidewalk outside Stark Tower. Exhilarated, he told Bruce his triumphant story. Bruce looked relieved, but a sadness clung to his features. “We should go out,” said Loki. “We should celebrate!”

“Right,” said Bruce, smiling grimly. “Of course we should.”

“Oh,” said Loki with slowly dawning sympathy, “you had a shitty day, didn’t you?”

Bruce looked at his shoes. “I’ve had worse. It’s okay. Just a reality check.” He shook his head slightly. “Abrupt, significant change is often painful.” He looked up suddenly. “I’m happy for you, Loki. Please don’t think for a second that I’m not.”

“Bruce,” Loki breathed. He wrapped his arms around his scientist and hugged him close.

They stayed entwined for a few minutes, silent, just holding each other. Then, his voice muffled by Loki’s neck, Bruce said softly, “Loki, if you’re thinking about leaving me, this would be a good time.”

Loki pulled away to see his face. “What?”

“The Band-Aid method. It’s easier to take pain all at once than dribbled out over time.”

“Why do you imagine I would leave you?”

“I’m not the man you fell in love with. I’m not a hero. I’m…normal.”

“You’re a super genius nuclear physicist with multiple doctorates and a great big cock—that’s hardly normal.”

The compliments bounced right off. Bruce continued to stare at him with the enthusiasm of someone about to get a root canal.

Loki pulled him close. “But Bruce, if you were struck by a car and could only paint walls with your feces, I would still love you. I might hire someone to take care of you and avoid you most of the time, but I would still love you.”

Bruce didn’t say anything but laughed against Loki’s shoulder and squeezed him. Loki kneaded the back of Bruce’s neck. “Let’s go home,” he breathed against Bruce’s ear. “I want to take a hot shower with you and rub and suck and fuck and kiss you until you’re so spent your bones melt.”

“As good as that sounds—and it sounds really good—we should go celebrate.”

“Nonsense. I had a good day. You had a bad one. You have a cheer deficit. We must remedy that.”

Bruce rubbed Loki appreciatively. “I love you,” he said softly. “I want to do what’s fun for you.”

Loki grinned, full of mischief, and pulled Bruce’s hand to his hard cock. “I’m looking forward to going home.”

***

_A few days later_

Loki woke from a bad dream. Odin had been about to give him the throne, but gave it to Thor at the last minute. The nonsense had left his stomach feeling achy and upset. He wondered if he could wake Bruce up to rub it. He looked over at his scientist and found him, back to Loki, shuddering in the dark. Loki squinted at him, confused.

Bruce drew a small, sucking breath. His shoulders shook in a silent spasm.

Loki turned toward him. “Bruce? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce said in a strangled voice.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Go back to sleep.” He shook violently.

Loki touched his shoulder. “As a wise man once said, if you keep your wounds hidden, I can’t help you heal them.”

Bruce drew a harsh breath, took Loki’s fingers from his shoulder and touched them to his lips. He struggled for a moment. “We were like brothers.” He smashed Loki’s hand against his hot face and sobbed in hard, silent spasms.

Loki heaved a sigh. This was over Tony? Really? He tried to manage his disappointment. What mattered was that Bruce was in pain. A lot of it, apparently. Ugh…but why?

He spooned his ridiculous scientist and kissed the back of his neck. Bruce continued to shake quietly in Loki’s arms. Loki nuzzled behind his ear. _Like brothers_. Bruce had an only child’s romanticized notion of brotherhood. To him it meant, Loki realized, some deep sacred bond. A best friend to the infinite power. Once, he had told Loki that Odin had forced a wedge between Loki and Thor, spoiling a relationship that should have been one of the closest of their lives. ‘Brother,’ like ‘love’ and ‘trust,’ was not a word Bruce took lightly.

Loki pulled Bruce’s back against his chest. He knew all too well the bitter agony of not being loved by someone you thought loved you. Or, at least, not being loved in any way you recognized as love.

He left his silver tongue and silver words in a drawer. He consoled Bruce with the press of his body, with his touch. Rubbing Bruce’s chest, he rocked him gently from behind, molding the broken rhythm of the spasms into something hypnotic. They moved together in a silent dance of grief, surrounded by a city of shadows.

At last they lay still, then Bruce turned over and kissed Loki hungrily. Loki held Bruce’s hot face between his hands and kissed him back. Bruce’s hand massaged the back of Loki’s skull. Fingers tangled in Loki’s hair. “I love you,” Bruce said roughly between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Loki let Bruce roll him onto his stomach. Bruce’s warm hands rubbed down Loki’s sides as he kissed the small of Loki’s back. Hot, breathy kisses followed Loki’s spine to his hole. Loki closed his eyes, dropping into bliss, as Bruce’s tongue bathed his rim with warm, sure strokes.

Bruce massaged Loki’s ass with firm hands as he tongued him. The entire time, he never quite lifted his hands. They stayed in constant motion, but some part always maintained contact with Loki’s skin. All of his movements were possessive, stealing Loki away from himself with sensual hands and soft lips.

Even when Bruce paused to get lube from his nightstand, his free hand stayed on Loki. There was something about the constant touch that reminded Loki of a spell, of firelight, of shadows dancing across cave walls. Bruce gnawed Loki’s pelvic bone while he lubed him with passionate fingers.

Bruce covered Loki like a bear rug. His skin against Loki’s felt warm as a furnace. The press of his weight was a welcome comfort. Wrapped around Loki’s body, the lean-muscled arms of his scientist felt as powerful as the Hulk’s.

Loki pushed against Bruce’s cock. Inviting. Accepting. Loving.

Bruce fucked him in slow deep thrusts. They stayed close, moving together. Another shadow dance. This one, of renewal.

Loki came seconds after Bruce. Loki wiped his cum off the top sheet, smeared it across Bruce’s warm mouth, and kissed him. They continued kissing as they resituated themselves. Bruce pulled Loki close.

“Are you going to be all right?” Loki asked, stroking Bruce’s chest.

“How can anything be wrong?” Bruce said softly, his words warm breaths against Loki’s hair. “I have you in my arms—how can anything in the world be wrong if that’s true?”

***

Loki set the platter of Tofurky in the middle of the cocktail table, where it joined dressing, green beans, yams and a wealth of candles and strategically placed glass-beaded bundles of dried herbs. Thor, Jane and Jane’s friend Darcy sat on the floor around the table in front of their festive Thanksgiving place settings.

Darcy leaned over and whispered into Jane’s ear, “I thought you said they had pot.”

“I said sometimes. Shhh.”

“At least at that rich guy’s place they have turkey.”

“Shhh.”

Thor groaned. “Turkey….”

Loki shot him a peeved look, but smiled at the women. “I think we’re almost ready,” he said in his best host cheer. “Bruce, love, come sit.”

Bruce stood hunched over the breakfast bar staring at a glass of red wine under his face. “I should stay here,” he said, “in case anyone needs something…warmed or….” He shrugged. Stretching up, he smiled at them and tapped a finger on the granite. “Kids’ table.”

Jane laughed. “It looks more like timeout,” said Darcy.

Thor looked the table up and down, wenging. “Brother, I have doubts about this feast. Do you have any—”

Loki crouched over the table. “If you say Poptarts, I’m going to move your nose right above your asshole.”

“We could have been eating turkey right now,” Darcy whispered to Jane.

“Loki,” said Jane, “that’s not very nice.” She looked around at Bruce. “Little help here?”

“Under and inverted would be worse.” Bruce drank his wine.

Loki laughed while his guests stared at him uneasily. “You’re right. I should have said under and inverted.”

Darcy stood up. “I’m going to go sit at the kids’ table. They have wine.”

“We have wine too,” said Loki. He frowned down at the cocktail table. “Or we will in a moment.” He ran to fetch a bottle of something.

“A white if you have it,” Jane called after him.

Loki found the bottle opener by Bruce and paused to rub a hand up his side, leaning over his shoulder. “Don’t sit here all by yourself.”

“I’m not.” He flicked a hand at Darcy. “There’s her and Coppola. It’s a party.”

Loki pasted a row of kisses up the back of Bruce’s neck. “Hurray for you. What if I phrase it this way, don’t make me sit with my family all by myself?”

Darcy smirked at them as she swilled the wine Bruce had poured her. It was almost gone.

Bruce smiled at her and refilled both their glasses. Loki stole the bottle from him and downed what was left in two swift gulps. Giggling, Bruce locked an arm around Loki’s neck and tugged him into a kiss. It started out playful, but quickly became heated. At about the same time, however, they both realized that Darcy was only inches away, leering at them.

Loki returned to the serious business of opening the bottle of white Jane had requested. Bruce grabbed another bottle of wine. “The party’s moving over there,” he told Darcy.

The three of them joined Thor and Jane around the cocktail table. The wine flowed, plates were passed around, and for a few minutes conversation was light and pleasant. But then an awkward quiet descended on the table, and, as if a spell had been cast, no one seemed able to say anything.

Thor cleared his throat. “This Tofurky is…quite edible.”

“Thank you,” said Bruce and Loki, almost at once. Bruce turned a smile at Loki.

Loki scowled at Thor. “Bruce seasoned it, but _I_ put it in the oven—at the correct temperature. And I set the timer.” He pulled himself straight. “And it’s more than ‘edible’—it’s delicious. Delicious—and nothing died.”

“Thank you for being open to new things, Thor,” said Bruce. “I didn’t realize we were going to be doing this until the last minute.” He stopped like someone realizing he just stepped on a land mine. He held perfectly still, color draining from his face.

“I slept with Hela,” said Darcy, mouth full of yams.

“And she let you live to speak of it.” Loki tilted his glass at Darcy. “She’s growing up, my little girl.”

Darcy downed some wine. “Yeah, we were together for like two weeks after your wedding, but then she had to go do some stuff. She said if I looked into a mirror and said her name three times, she would appear behind me.” She sniffled a little. “But, so far, it hasn’t worked.”

Bruce rubbed her back and murmured something gently.

“I thought she liked boys,” said Thor, holding a big forkful of Tofurky.

“Does it matter?” asked Loki, bristling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jane said quickly.

Before Loki could follow up, Thor pointed with his fork to the other end of the table. Holding Darcy, Bruce talked to her in a voice almost too quiet to hear. Loki made out “self-esteem” and smiled.

“He’s so sweet,” said Jane. “He’ll make such a good father.”

“Except for the part where he got her drunk,” said Thor. “I hope he doesn’t do that with his children.”

Loki glared at him. “That’s right. Because we’re gay, we’re going to give our children margaritas and watch them run into walls for fun. That’s what you think, isn’t it? Because we’re gay, you think we shouldn’t have children.”

“No,” said Thor.

Jane stiffened. “Loki, no one’s saying that.”

The doorbell rang.

Loki looked at Bruce, but he was busy with Darcy, so Loki scrambled up and ran to the door. A bolt of excitement ran through him as he looked through the peep hole. He threw open the door with a cry of joy.

Steve, Clint and Natasha shuffled into the apartment. Loki bade them remove their shoes and helped them out of their coats and jackets. Steve had brought a bottle of wine, and Natasha had a bag. She handed it to Loki. “I’m not sure what’s in here—cookies, mostly, and some dinner rolls, I think. It’s just stuff we stole from—you know who’s banquet.”

Loki laughed.

“He’s not Voldemort,” said Bruce. “We can say his name.” Darcy withdrew from him, wiping her eyes and staring at the new arrivals.

Loki arched a brow at his husband. “You can say his name. I’m only going to refer to him as Donald Trump with Better Hair.”

Everyone laughed except Bruce, who looked like someone had run over his puppy. Loki seemed to be the only one who noticed. The room was suddenly full of tinkling plates and chatter.

Bruce scooted backward, giving Natasha his place at the improvised dinner table. Loki sat behind him and wrapped his long legs around Bruce’s crossed ones. Bruce kissed Loki’s knuckles.

“Tony throws such great parties,” said Darcy. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Darcy!” snapped Jane.

Darcy shot her a petulant look. “Well, he does.”

“And he has turkey,” said Thor. “And bacon. Maybe even turkey stuffed with bacon.”

Everyone laughed except Loki. “No one has to stay here,” he said, directing the comment at Thor. “Anyone who wants can go somewhere else and get colon cancer and die.”

In the ensuing silence, Bruce said, “Who wants to say what they’re thankful for?”

“I’ll go,” said Natasha, “but I want to answer that—” She motioned at Darcy. “Whoever that is, first.”

“Darcy,” said Darcy.

“Whatever,” said Natasha. “Anyway, we came here because our friends are here.” She flashed a smile at Loki. “It’s that simple.”

“Yeah,” said Clint, “it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve gone vegan and had nothing to eat at Tony’s but lettuce because he didn’t know and since Bruce and Loki weren’t coming, he cancelled the vegetarian options.”

Natasha glowered at him and stabbed a potato with her fork. “No. It had nothing to do with that.” She glanced at Loki. “There was even butter in the corn. Who does that?”

Clint smirked. “Everybody?”

“We’re just vegetarians,” Loki told Natasha, “but everything here is vegan except for the pumpkin pie—it was made with eggs.”

“I don’t think this wine’s vegan,” said Bruce. “We have some. I’ll open a bottle.”

“Thanksgiving there, thanksgiving here. It’s fun,” said Steve. “It’s sort of like having two holidays.”

“Like being children of a divorce,” said Jane. She shrugged a little. “Fun,” she added, sipping her wine.

Natasha smoothed back her red hair. “I was going to say what I’m thankful for.” She put a hand on Clint’s shoulder and smiled at him. “Vegan marshmallows. Who’s next?”

They went around the room, some of them answering seriously, others taking it as shallowly as Natasha. Bruce, because he was one of the world’s most intelligent people, said he was thankful for Loki. And Loki said he was thankful for his friends and Bruce, which earned him a chorus of ‘awws’ from around the table and an amused look from Bruce.

“What?” Loki whispered, frowning at his scientist. “I wasn’t funny. I didn’t say ‘vegan marshmallows’ or a sports team or something silly like that.”

Bruce kissed his cheek. “My lotus blossom.”

He blinked slowly as Bruce caressed behind his ear. All around their little apartment, their friends talked and laughed, candles flickered, and the air was thick with sage, nutmeg and kinship. Loki felt warmer than he had in any palace.


	12. Chapter 12

Loki frowned at the Christmas tree and moved a peacock ornament from one of the lower branches to one of the higher branches. He made a silver-clad Santa change places with a blue-clad one. Something still seemed wrong. With a sigh, he noticed two of their newly-acquired dragon ornaments side by side. Bruce. Loki rounded on him. “Do you realize you hung two of the dragons next to each other?”

Bruce looked up from the floor and the strands of variously-hued, blinking lights rolled out across the carpet. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Loki echoed. He rolled his eyes. “Bruce Banner: proof that gay style is a stereotype.”

“I’m also a scientist.” He grinned as he turned his attention back to the lights. “It’s like paper covers rock.”

Loki clasped his fist with a hand, frowning at it. “I still don’t understand that.”

“No one does. It’s one of the universe’s great mysteries.” Bruce tightened a bulb. “The dragons can hang next to each other, can’t they? They aren’t the same. One’s purple and one’s green.”

“Yes, but they’re both dragons.”

Bruce smiled at Loki. “But if you move them too far apart, how will they talk to each other?” He stretched to stroke the side of Loki’s hand. “Maybe they’re in love. If you move them, they’ll be sad. Do you really want a tree of sad dragons?”

Loki’s phone rang. “Hello, Pepper.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m decorating the tree, and Bruce is turning into a three-year-old girl. What are you doing?” He yipped as Bruce swatted his ass.

“Can we meet for coffee? The three of us?”

Loki looked at Bruce. “Coffee with Pepper?”

“You can go,” said Bruce. He waved a hand over the strands of lights. “I’m still replacing bulbs.”

With a sigh and an offhand flourish, Loki lit every bulb. Before Bruce could open his mouth, Loki magically hung the lights around the apartment. “Yes,” he said to Pepper. “We’ll see you shortly.” He ignored Bruce’s bruised look and went to check his hair, but he left the dragons alone.

***

Loki crunched on his cinnamon biscotti and felt bored. Apparently, ‘meeting for coffee’ had meant Pepper wanted to reassure Bruce they were still friends and show him ugly things she was attempting to knit while both of them ignored Loki almost completely. He entertained himself by watching a little boy a table away from them pull everything, one by one, out of his mother’s purse. The mother was oblivious; she was engaged in conversation with her friend.

The little boy drew on his face with one of his mom’s lipsticks. Then he drew on the floor. Loki watched him with a grin, taken with his mischievousness. Perhaps, someday, he and Bruce would have a mischievous little boy. Or maybe he would be sweet, like Bruce—all hugs and gentleness.

Bruce yawned. He seemed to yawn almost every other sentence. Was it possible that, subconsciously, he found his and Pepper’s conversation as dull as Loki did?

“I guess this mocha isn’t doing anything,” said Bruce lightly. “I’m going to get an espresso. Anyone want anything?”

Pepper declined. “Something with almonds,” said Loki. “And another chai latte. And maybe a sandwich. Anything with cheese. Oh, and see if they have any olives. Any color, but lots of them.”

Bruce nodded dutifully. As he passed the mother, he tapped her shoulder and drew her attention to the toddler’s activities. Loki groaned. “There goes the entertainment. Fucking Bruce.”

Loki started to ask Pepper her plans for the evening, but she leaned across the table and whispered. “Is he okay?”

Loki frowned in surprise. Her expression unsettled him. “He’s fine. Why?”

“He looks so tired. I’ve never seen him look so tired.” She glanced over her shoulder, as if concerned he might appear behind her. “And something…. I don’t know. His color seems wrong. You’re sure he’s okay?”

Loki shrugged. “He’s Bruce, same as always.” He hesitated, then said, “He hasn’t been sleeping well since…well.” He rolled his eyes. “But, otherwise, he’s fine. I guess sometimes he’s a little down….” He wondered if any of this would make it back to Tony. He loved Pepper, but it was difficult not to share things with the one you loved most. “He hasn’t mentioned Tony at all.”

“Tony won’t talk to me about it anymore, either.” She looked at Loki sadly.

Loki grinned as the little boy shoved a pastry down his pants. He pointed it out to Pepper. She gave a half-hearted smirk, then turned her doleful eyes on Loki again. “I’m glad the holidays are here,” said Loki. “We love the holidays, you know.”

Pepper settled back and followed Loki’s lead, letting the conversation flow into holiday plans and gift ideas. Presently, Bruce joined them. He scattered an array of café food before Loki. Loki rewarded him with a kiss, but couldn’t help but notice that Bruce did, in fact, look rather fatigued.

Grinning, Bruce stole an olive. Loki tousled Bruce’s hair. He smiled at Pepper. “When are we going ice skating?”

***

Loki enjoyed morning yoga with Bruce. Besides fucking, it was one of his favorite things they did together. As he transitioned smoothly from Peacock, balancing on his wrists with his body airborne and parallel to the ground, into Wounded Peacock, the same pose one-handed, he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. And then Bruce lay sprawled on his mat.

Loki squatted down beside him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” Bruce rolled over on his side, but didn’t get up.

“Do you need a hand?”

“No.” He offered Loki a faint smile. “I got the wind knocked out of me. I want to stay here a sec.”

Loki lay down beside him so they were face to face. “But you’re okay?”

Bruce stroked a stray strand of hair off Loki’s forehead. Even his eyes smiled now. “Yes.”

“What happened? You’re so good at Wounded Peacock.” Actually, when Loki thought about it, he had never seen Bruce have any difficulty with a pose before.

“I just lost my balance.”

“You have excellent balance.”

Bruce cupped Loki’s cheek, somehow finding this all very amusing. “I felt dizzy. I lost my balance. That’s all.”

Loki couldn’t stop the tears that started in his eyes.

Bruce frowned in concern. “Baby? What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m frightened whenever something happens to you now,” he confessed. “Before, if you were in an accident or anything, I knew you would turn and whatever happened, Hulk would be fine. But now, you’re just this soft little mortal thing with bones that snap and blood that gushes. You’re just one misstep away from tragedy.”

Bruce’s dark eyes sparkled with laughter, but he didn’t laugh outright. “I think my odds are somewhat better than that.” He held Loki’s face and kissed his lips gently. “Sweet Loki,” he breathed, stroking beneath Loki’s ear while continuing to seduce his mouth with soft kisses.

Even without checking Bruce’s cock, Loki could tell he was turned on by the rhythm of his breathing and the huskiness of his voice. Just knowing Bruce was turned on excited Loki, but the little flirty kisses drove him crazy.

“Fuck.” Loki shuddered. “Fuck. We have to fuck.”

Bruce laughed. “Instead of Wounded Peacock, how about Fisting Peacock?”

Within seconds, they undressed each other and were practicing a style of yoga all their own.

***

_A few days later_

“I feel so strange leaving you,” said Loki, standing in the foyer in all of his armored glory. The sad little face sticking out of the helm looked less like the Avengers’ formidable sorcerer and more like a kindergartener on his first day of school.

“I’ll be fine,” said Bruce. “I have all kinds of work to do on that new project.” He kissed Loki’s lips and tried to keep it chaste, tried to dampen his arousal. He didn’t quite succeed—one look at Loki in that helm always made him so hot.

Loki, devil that he was, noticed and grabbed a handful of Bruce’s cock. “You’re going to miss me.”

Bruce kissed Loki deeply, savoring the taste of his mouth, his warmth, his wetness. His cock throbbed beneath Loki’s taunting hand and strained against his slacks. He pressed Loki against the wall, groaning into his mouth with aching need.

“I—I need to go,” said Loki, pulling away, flustered. “They’re waiting on me.” He gave Bruce a quick peck. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Bruce sighed. He remembered what he was holding suddenly. “Here!” He gave the cloth bag to Loki. “Blueberry lemon muffins. I made enough to share.”

Loki took the bag and snatched another quick, nippy kiss before heading out the door.

Bruce sat at the breakfast bar and bit into a muffin, staring at the closed front door a little forlornly. He couldn’t eat any more of it; his nerves were on edge. He tried to shake the anxiety he felt at knowing Loki would be facing danger. Loki was competent. And as Hulk once said, ‘Loki strong.’

But Bruce hadn’t expected to miss the action himself. Some part of him wanted to be on that plane—and he was surprised to realize that part didn’t seem to be Hulk. In fact, when he checked on Hulk, he found the monster dressed as a samurai and busy finger-painting at an easel.

“That’s actually quite good,” said Bruce, impressed. The giant outlined the rough shapes of mountains with a nail tipped in dark umber, then smudged in shading using the side of his little finger. “I can’t draw. How are you doing that?”

Hulk gave a superior snort. “Can Bruce smash? No. Hulk smash. Hulk paints. Bruce sucks.”

“The Avengers are out on a mission.”

Hulk shrugged, adding a temple beneath the mountains.

“You don’t care?”

Hulk shrugged. He scratched in some evergreens. Bruce sat down and watched him. After a few minutes, he shrank into the four-year-old with the footed pajamas. Hulk glanced up from his painting. Wordlessly, he tore a sheet from the back of his tablet and handed it to Bruce. Paints and brushes appeared beside Bruce’s thigh.

Bruce tried to paint a sailboat, but painted a tiger instead. Frustrated, he returned to his normal form. “How is it that I’m upset by this, but you’re fine?”

“No point now,” said Hulk, painting.

“I gambled. I won. Why do I keep feeling like I lost?”

Hulk frowned at him and pulled a brocade curtain between them.

“Asshole,” Bruce told the curtain. He returned his focus to the apartment. It felt like a barren wasteland without Loki.

He cleaned the kitchen and poked around on his tablet for a while. Then he sat up and watched the front door. He felt a new admiration for Pepper and Jane. It wasn’t easy being the one left behind.

What had Loki done, before he became an Avenger, when Bruce left him to go on missions?

Bruce pulled out his phone. “Hi, Pepper. Uh…yeah…right—it’s Bruce. I…uh…do you feel like a spa day?”

***

_That night_

Bruce welcomed Loki with a kiss. “How was your day?”

Loki sighed. “I saved the world. What about you?”

“I made quinoa with aduki beans. Oh!” He lifted a foot high and wiggled his toes. “I got a pedicure with Pepper. My toenails have never looked so good! And see my pinky toes?” He pointed for Loki to look.

Loki complied. “Little green peace symbols.” He smiled at Bruce.

Bruce hugged him. Having only one Avenger in the family was an adjustment for both of them, but they were going to be all right.

Loki went to take a shower. Bruce started to follow him, but as he reached the bedroom door, a wave of dizziness swept over him. He caught himself on the door frame.

“Bruuuuce! I’m so dirty! Come see how utterly filthy I am!”

Bruce hung on the door frame. “Coming!”

Loki cackled. “You will be!”

Hulk shifted beneath Bruce’s skin, summoned by Bruce’s fear. Bruce gave Hulk some fat pieces of chalk and pointed him to a sidewalk in their mind. Hulk sat with the chalk and started drawing.

Bruce hung his head, breathing. On the sidewalk in his mind’s eye, Hulk wrote, ‘you lose’ in big, puffy letters.

  



	13. Chapter 13

After several rounds of mutual fellatio, they snuggled beneath the cool sheets, kissing each other in the dark. Bruce held Loki until the trickster fell asleep. He allowed himself to savor these activities. These were the things that made life matter, that made it sacred and sweet.

He went to the kitchen, made coffee, and spent the rest of the night pouring over everything he had on the Sarcophagus experiment. For days, he had suspected something was wrong, but hadn’t been willing to admit it. He tried to ignore the low-grade fever, the nausea and jaundice, tried to ignore the odd aches and strange bruises, tried to tell himself he felt better as he felt worse. Even now, he kept chiding himself for worrying, for jumping to conclusions. He offered up plausible, non-dehulking related causes for each symptom.

But he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer.

As he worked, he realized Hulk’s warning had foreshadowed an avalanche of sickness. What had begun as a slow deterioration turned into a rapid decline. Only a few hours into his research, even a fool would have had to admit that something was desperately wrong with him.

He set up his equipment on the island, turning the kitchen into a mini lab. He tested blood samples. He tested them again. The results were the same. He performed a series of tests and tried to view the interruptions caused by symptoms as data. Things to measure. Things to log. The coffee ground blood he wiped from his mouth after retching in the sink was a curious development. The bruises caused by resting his arm on the island were interesting. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain he’d ever felt, his headache was a constant six with an intermittent eight point five. The thunderclap that took him to the ground—maybe a nine.

He saw little point in going to a hospital. They wouldn’t be able to properly diagnose him, let alone cure him. They would run useless tests to assess a systemic malfunction he already understood. Sedation and pain management wouldn’t help him figure out how to reverse the damage. He needed to think. He needed—

Bruce wasn’t surprised to get Tony’s voicemail. It was four in the morning. Still, sometimes the inventor kept odd hours. “I’ve encountered a problem with the experiment.” He strained to sound calmer than he felt. “I need your help. Tony, it’s serious. Call me.”

He played with theories for a couple of hours, then called again. “I know you’re awake now. We don’t have to work together. You don’t even have to see me. But I don’t have the necessary equipment here—if I could borrow Lab Five for a few hours…maybe JARVIS…. Jesus, Tony. Don’t make me feel like your stalker ex-boyfriend. Call me back.”

He fumbled with a new idea, ran a simulation and watched it die. He left Tony another message. “Remember how we discussed other applications for the Sarcophagus? Curing genetic diseases, removing inoperable tumors, etc.? None of those will work if the fucking device turns the patients’ internal organs into soup. Consider your potential profits, if nothing else.”

Bruce stared at his laptop and sighed. That had been a pissy message. The kind a desperate little bitch might leave. A wave of anger rolled over his shoulders. That was a juvenile insult; it shouldn’t have hurt so much. But the power wasn’t in the words themselves. It was that Tony had said them. Words spoken by a loved one always have a ring of truth.

He shut his eyes and held his pounding head. He couldn’t think. The pain was maddening. It was becoming harder to shut it out.

Hulk hid in the shadows, the essence of schadenfreude. “Took Hulk’s body. Now Bruce pays.”

“Right. I deserve this.” Bruce had said it sarcastically, but as soon as he did, he wondered if he believed that. Hulk believed it. And he was Hulk and Hulk was him, so—

He flinched inadvertently as arms enfolded him. Loki stuck his tongue down his ear and made loud slurpy noises that were pure agony. “Oh,” said Loki sweetly, nuzzling Bruce’s head and hugging him to his chest, “did I scare you?”

“A little.” He sank into Loki’s touch. The hug was all too brief. Loki released him and explored the kitchen.

Loki frowned at the french press. “You made coffee and drank it all?”

“Yes.” He smiled at Loki’s mystified disapproval. “I’ll make more.”

“No,” said Loki, arching one brow. “That’s all right. You’re working. I’ll make it.”

“Loki—” Bruce wanted to tell Loki what was happening, but what good would that do? Loki would worry. Needlessly. Soon Bruce would find a solution, and everything would be fine. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”

Loki smirked at him. “I love you more.”

Bruce watched Loki fix his coffee. “Do you know where Pepper is?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“What? Your bestie dropped you, so you’re stealing mine?”

“I was curious. That’s all.” He smiled at Loki, feeling nearly as sickened by the deception as by his deteriorating health. “I tried to call her and couldn’t get through.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Loki set his cup down. “Maybe she wanted to surprise you with it.” He popped up. “Shouldn’t we turn on some lights?”

“No, don’t!”

Loki blinked at him in surprise. “Or not.”

“I have a headache. The light hurts.” That was true, but he also didn’t want Loki seeing him. “Let’s just have the Christmas lights this morning.”

The next second Loki’s cool fingers were lightly massaging Bruce’s temples. “I’m sorry your head hurts,” Loki said gently.

Bruce closed his eyes, basking in Loki’s touch. He allowed himself a moment’s pleasure, then asked, “What were you saying about Pepper?”

“She’s visiting a chain of remote islands being affected by global warming. She’s trying to see how Tony’s new foundation, A Stark Change: Creating a Sustainable Future, can help them.”

“That’s great,” said Bruce, meaning it. “We were just discussing anthropogenic climate disruption. Those small islands are going to be the first people to suffer the consequences of the world’s richest economies’ refusal to put our planet’s survival ahead of short-term goals.” He rested his forehead against Loki’s shoulder and enjoyed the way the sorcerer’s fingers kneaded through his hair. “I imagine the cell reception’s rather bad there.” 

Bruce had been hesitant to ask Pepper to contact Tony on his behalf, and he didn’t see any point in involving the others. Tony and the other Avengers had been at odds with each other since the last meeting. Tony probably wasn’t taking their calls either.

Loki kissed the side of Bruce’s head and snuggled him for a minute before going to take a shower. Bruce injected himself with B12 followed by a stimulant. He relocated his laptop and the rest of his paraphernalia to the cocktail table and sat on the couch. Falling off the couch would hurt less than falling off a barstool.

He drew blood, ran another round of tests, plugged in the numbers and stared at them in horror. The rate of deterioration was increasing even faster than he had projected. At this rate— He picked up his phone.

It went to voicemail, as he expected. “Tony, please— You’re not even listening to these, are you?” His eyes roamed the screen of frightening numbers hopelessly. He heaved a sigh. “I think this is where I’m supposed to tell you I forgive you, and I’m sorry for my part, and, in my heart, we’ll always be brothers. But I’m really not feelin’ it so—suck a bag of dicks, you fucking douchewad.” He paused. “Really huge, like—Hulk-sized dicks…with herpes and big, cheesy foreskins and pus-dripping slits. And flies. Blow flies. Because you blow.” His slight smile faded as he looked at the numbers again. “Tony…the experiment’s failure—that’s not your fault. I’m sure you understand that. Just…I do too, okay?” He wanted to say more. “Enjoy those dicks, cuntbreath.”

He set the phone down and tried not to reel. He buried his face in his hands, then went over the data again. At some point, he forgot what he was trying to do with it. He pushed his work aside in frustration and decided to make breakfast for Loki. He had to maintain their normal routine, so Loki wouldn’t become suspicious.

Bruce would either solve this by himself, or he would die. It was that simple. He would solve it. Simple.

His head spun. He went to his knees. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what he’d been doing. His head thudded in the dark. He could stay there…in the dark. Maybe he could fit into the pause between the throbbing beats in his head. He could curl into that small space, between here and now. Between—what had he been doing?

Hulk pushed Bruce aside. He held Bruce down when Bruce tried to reassert himself. “Hurt,” Hulk told Bruce gruffly.

“I thought you liked that.”

Hulk eyed him grimly. “Dying.”

“Not if I can help it.” Bruce stepped in front of Hulk. “Stay back. I need to work.”

“Hurt.”

“Hurt,” Bruce agreed. “I need to think. Go play with the puppies.” He added a few new puppies to their head. Some fluffy white ones like he had seen in the park the other day—Samoyeds. And a harlequin Great Dane with enormous paws. Although Hulk seemed to think nothing of hurling Loki like a football, he was gentle and careful with imaginary puppies.

Hulk looked at them longingly, but didn’t budge.

Bruce sighed. “I don’t have time for this. Hulk smashes; Bruce solves. I have to work this out.”

“Morphine?”

Bruce smiled. Morphine sounded wonderful. “I need to keep my head clear.”

“Head not clear—too much pain. Stupid Bruce. Weak, stupid Bruce! Hulk stay.”

“You need to stay _back_ if you want to survive.”

“Hulk strongest one there is!”

“You never get tired of saying that do you?” He felt too weak to take over by force. “Loki,” he said. “If you want to live and see Loki, you need to step back.”

“Hulk stand down; Bruce save body; more Loki.”

“Exactly.”

Hulk grunted.

Frustratingly, Hulk remained where he was. “We don’t have time for this! I need our fucking body now. Move!”

“Merge?” Hulk glanced at the puppies wriggling excitedly on a grassy lawn drenched in fall afternoon sunlight. He leveled his somber gaze at Bruce. “Hulk take pain. Bruce take mind.”

Bruce stared at Hulk, stunned. Cooperation was almost always Bruce’s idea. “Thank you.”

He opened his eyes. The pounding in his head had subsided. He heaved a deep breath. Now he just needed to figure out how to keep his organs from failing— The doorbell surprised him.

Loki, dressed, with a black and green gym bag over his shoulder, beat him to the door. Natasha stood in the hall outside. “Are you ready?” she asked Loki.

“Almost.” Loki swept Bruce into a crushing hug and sucked his tonsils out. He pulled back with a slight grimace. “Are you using that patchouli toothpaste again? It’s kind of ick.”

“Sorry.”

Loki kissed Bruce’s nose. “That’s all right.” He turned to Natasha, “Ready.”

“Wait,” said Bruce, rubbing a hand across Loki’s chest. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Yes. It’s Tuesday. I have ballet with Natasha on Tuesday’s.” He grinned. “I guess you’re usually at work by now.”

“I took the day off.”

“You didn’t tell me,” said Loki.

“It was a last minute—”

“Bruce.” Natasha tapped under her nose. “Here. You—”

“Oh.” Bruce felt his nose, then stared at the blood on his fingers, feeling dim. He pressed the dish towel he was holding to his nose.

“Ew,” said Loki, one brow arched high. “I would have gotten you a tissue.”

Natasha frowned at Bruce. “Are you okay?”

“The heater. The air’s so dry…. I’m fine.” He smiled at Loki. “Ballet, huh?”

“Yes,” said Loki, indignant. “It’s very athletic.”

“I’m sure,” said Bruce. “And I’m sure you’re fantastic at it. You’re so strong and naturally poised.”

Loki relaxed, gazing at Bruce approvingly. He flashed a quick smile at Natasha. “Natasha is amazing. And she’s a great teacher.”

Natasha beamed. Bruce wasn’t sure he had ever seen her beam before. “Loki has much natural talent,” said Natasha. “It’s a rare man who can dance on point.”

Bruce grinned up at Loki and stroked his arm, pleased. “He is a rare man.”

“Bruce,” said Natasha. “Do you want to come with us and watch?”

“Thanks, but no.” Bruce, still holding the towel to his nose, patted Loki’s back. “I have work to do here.”

“I thought,” said Natasha, squinting at him a little, “you took off work.”

“Homework.” Bruce shrugged. “Science.”

Loki snickered. “Workaholic.” He kissed Bruce around the towel. “See you soon, my love.”

“Bungee waffles,” Bruce said, rubbing Loki’s arm.

Natasha frowned.

Loki laughed. “See? He’s very silly. I told you about how he gets my nose, right?” He sailed merrily out the door.

Bruce pressed the door closed, then turned uneasy eyes on the empty apartment.

***

_Almost two hours later_

Tony, examining data shimmering on his three-dimensional display, swatted the notification away. He should have lowered the priority of Bruce’s messages weeks ago, so they didn’t keep interrupting him. But, somehow, he hadn’t. Yet.

He stared at the pulsing file of unplayed voicemail. Next to it, the latest text message glowed demandingly. “Fuck you, Bruce.” Tony returned to his work.

A few seconds later, he sighed and opened the most recent text message. He read it with a frown. “A puzzle. You think you can draw me out with a fucking word puzzle? Fuck you twice, asshole.” He swiped the absurd message away and sat still for a second, irritation twitching beneath his skin.

He flung everything away angrily, bringing down the walls of data and making everything go dark. Hunching over, he held his head for a long moment. He closed his eyes. “You rat-bastard. You fucking rancid fuck.”

He pulled the text message back up and held his chin while examining it. He stroked the words with a fingertip, lighting them up. “You lame-ass sonofabitch. A word puzzle. Really? Just who the fuck do you think you are?” He sat up straight, pulling away from the display. “Obviously, this is mathematical. The words aren’t actually words, and the letters aren’t letters.” He flicked up a few more displays. He jabbed the air, creating strings of numbers. “You think you’re smarter than I am, don’t you? Doctor Fucktard.”

As Tony gave himself over to thrill of breaking the code, a second, sweeter thrill raced through him. Bruce had known he would be unable to resist this challenge. This was an olive branch. Nothing could come between them for long. Their friendship was a force of nature, a bond of brotherhood stronger than blood.

This message—this was love. Bruce loved him. True, he wasn’t man enough to apologize yet, but Tony could forgive him that. In fact, he might even let it slide completely.

He grinned as he highlighted a line of text. “Sit tight, Benji. I’m gonna bitchslap your pretentious word puzzle and cram it up your ass. I’ll attach a note that says, the only thing you and Alan Turing have in common is sucking dick.”

***

Bruce eased Hulk aside. “Thanks, but I can take it from here.”

“Still hurt,” said Hulk, sounding grumpy. “Still scared.”

“I can handle it.” He looked out over the desolate, jagged landscape sprawled beneath the precipice where he stood with Hulk. It was swathed in gloom, night bleeding in at the edges. The sun had gone down hours ago, and the moon had disappeared. Only the stars remained.

“Getting dark,” Hulk said gruffly.

“Go play with the puppies.” Bruce looked over his shoulder. A circle of sunlight appeared in the darkness. A patch of soft grass lay amid the scorched earth. Puppies tumbled happily about in the grass. There were a dozen of them, all shapes and sizes with slippery tongues and velvet tummies, all wriggling energy and cornbread breath.

Strains of music poured from some distant corner. Bruce recognized it with a bittersweet smile. _The Boxer_ , a Simon and Garfunkel song he had liked as a little boy.

 _Lie-la-lie…_ A single note of thunder reverberated through the darkness. A star winked out.

“Go play with the puppies,” Bruce repeated.

After a moment’s hesitation, Hulk left Bruce for the circle of sunlight and sat amid the puppies. Bruce watched him briefly, then turned back to the sky and the gathering night. The music grew louder.

 _Lie-la-lie…_ A crash in the darkness. Another star disappeared.

For a breath, he considered joining Hulk in the sunlight. Instead, he stayed where he was, standing guard over the patch of green and the resting giant. Bruce had spent most of his life hiding in Hulk’s shadow. This reversal seemed only fair. And, really, he was well-suited to this post. He had been a fearful boy. He had often been a fearful man. But he had never been afraid of the dark.

Alone, he watched the stars die one by one. And then he realized he held something in his arms. A brown and black striped cat. Bruce laughed in surprise. “Coil! There you are. I wondered what happened to you.” He bent his neck to snuggle his face against the cat’s silken head. Bruce was nine years old. He wore a beige _Star Wars_ tee shirt and cornflower blue corduroys. The cat purred against his neck.

Another star died. An entire section of sky was black now.

“Loki will understand,” Bruce whispered. He held the cat and waited.

***

Loki dropped his gym bag in the foyer and tossed his keys into the basket. “Bruce?” He hung his jacket and pulled off his shoes. “You’d better be here after that text. You made me bail on lunch with Natasha. Just for the record, texting ‘sex’ isn’t sexting.” He waltzed into the living area. “You’re supposed to send pictures.”

Bruce lay asleep, on his side, on the couch. His laptop, phone and various beakers and things were on the cocktail table along with a small white board. A larger white board sat on an easel nearby. Loki grinned. It could have been a museum exhibit: scientist in natural habitat. He should have been miffed that Bruce had pulled him away from his after-ballet-lunch date with Natasha with the promise of sex only to fall asleep, but at times like this he found his scientist rather adorable and couldn’t be angry at all.

Loki crept closer and picked up the small white board, curious. He frowned, not entirely sure what he was looking at. He examined the large white board. His concern sharpened. Much of the writing wasn’t simply esoteric, it made no sense whatsoever. It wasn’t even that the data was wrong—it was gibberish.

He sank on the couch beside Bruce’s head. “Bruce, what have you been doing?”

Bruce’s eyes opened. He cuddled Loki’s hand to his face. “Loki.”

Loki fondled Bruce’s curls, still unsettled. “What are you working on?”

Bruce yawned. “Nothing. Colander stimulation in deviant homogenous zones.” He reached up to rub Loki’s shoulder. “Calipers.”

Loki stared at him with a slowly building horror. This was probably some silly joke. Bruce had his own brand of mischief—that’s probably all this was. “Got me.” He shook Bruce’s shoulder. “That was really—different. Now, seriously, what’s going on?”

“It doesn’t identify,” said Bruce quietly. “I was functioning…. I kept forgetting what I was going.” He stroked Loki’s face, his own sincere and still. “Kelvin wheels. Always mazes and icebergs.” He stared at Loki meaningfully. “I can’t skyscraper. My whole life is dark and you.”

Before Loki could fashion a reply, Bruce’s eyes rolled back in his head. He shook all over, his limbs twitching wildly. Loki fought his panic and tried to hold Bruce still. Bruce flailed against him. Finally, Bruce relaxed in Loki’s arms. “What the fuck is happening?” Loki whispered.

Bruce heaved a breath. “Six. See the log? That’s…six.” He pointed at the large white board.

Loki wrote ‘six’ on the white board and picked up Bruce’s phone. “You’ve had six seizures since I left, and you didn’t call for help?” Bruce answered with silence alone. Loki called for an ambulance. He stroked Bruce’s arm and frowned at the phone. Aside from a few calls early that morning and a few word salad texts to Jen—Bruce’s cousin in Los Angeles—and Tony (and the ‘sex’ to Loki), Bruce had made no effort to contact anyone.

Bruce stretched to tap the small white board. “Here. See? It’s here. The question, Loki. Follow it.”

Loki frowned at the gibberish. “Okay.” He stroked Bruce’s cheek. “Just rest now.”

Reclined in Loki’s arms, Bruce hummed something drowsily. Loki swept Bruce’s hair back. “ _I am leaving. I am leaving_ ,” Bruce sang softly. “ _But the fighter still remains._ ”

Another convulsion, worse than the last one, dampened Loki’s eyes. He crushed Bruce against him and waited for it to stop. When it was over, Bruce, again, asked Loki to write ‘six’ on the white board. Loki blinked away tears and just held him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat in Bruce's mind is a memory that makes more sense if you've read "A Moonlight Koan," the ninth story in this series, which I posted on my old account in 2013. I'll post it here soon.  
> (Hint: The cat's name is an anagram, but nine-year-old Bruce misunderstood the first letter.)


	14. Chapter 14

In the swirling, frantic world of the emergency room, it didn’t seem to matter that Loki was an Avenger. Here, he felt powerless. People in scrubs swept him aside as they swarmed around Bruce. Bruce, still incoherent, had begun to tremble between seizures, turning simple procedures like drawing blood and starting an IV into group efforts.

All Loki wanted to do was hold Bruce, but a nurse kept asking him questions. He didn’t know the answers to most of them. “Allergies?” Loki struggled to remember if Bruce had ever used that word.

The nurse restated her question. “Is he allergic to anything?”

“Oh, yes,” said Loki. “Bullies. And Rush Limbaugh.”

The nurse bit the side of her lower lip. “We’ll try to limit his exposure to those. What about drugs? Like penicillin?”

“He likes drugs. Especially marijuana. I’ve never seen him smoke penicillin.”

The nurse made a note. “Right. Do you know how long he’s been sick?”

“He doesn’t get sick.” Loki frowned. “I already explained this to the ambulance people. Bruce never gets sick.”

“All right.” The nurse took a small breath. “How long has he been like this?”

Loki explained finding him, which was horrible, because he relived it. Finally, she asked if he could think of anything else that might help them understand what was happening. “The experiment,” Loki told her. He explained what he knew of the experiment.

No sooner had she left, then a man took her place. He wanted to know their names, where they lived, where they worked. “I already told them all of this in the ambulance,” said Loki.

“The ambulance service is run by a different company. We need this information for our records.”

“What about an autograph? If I give you an autograph, will you leave me alone?”

The man glanced at Bruce, across the room, seizing while people tried to undress him. “Do you have someone who can help you with the rest of these forms? Maybe someone who can stay with you while you’re here?”

Loki looked at Bruce and felt lost. “I think he’s the one needing help.” He lifted his chin, facing the man again. “I have to help him.”

The man gave him a feeble smile. They went through the rest of the forms, then the man gave Loki a folder with his copies and sheets of various information about the hospital. Just as the man left, a nurse walked up to Loki with a plastic bag. “His clothes,” said the nurse. He handed Loki Bruce’s watch and wedding band. “These are probably safer with you.”

“The hospital isn’t safe?”

The nurse blinked at him. “You should hold them so they don’t get lost.”

Loki added them to the bag. He saw an opening around Bruce and filled it. He pulled Bruce against him.

Bruce pressed his face against Loki. “Anhydrous violins,” he sighed.

The room emptied. Loki’s breath shuddered in his throat. He held Bruce close and twisted the scientist’s hair between his fingers. He tried very hard not to cry.

“I’m so soothsayer,” Bruce said tenderly. “I never expected sunlight. The aurora ray permits vague mysteries. These vast gypsies, so subtle, so delicate.” He kissed Loki’s neck softly. “Carnival geese, formaldehyde.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and, for a moment, let the touch of Bruce’s lips be the only thing he felt. He held Bruce through another seizure. He opened his eyes when it was over and discovered a spreading stain of bright red on the sheet covering Bruce. “You’re bleeding!”

“No,” said Bruce with some disgust. “I pissed universally.” He rubbed his chin clumsily, his hand trailing plastic tubing. “Hemeuria…. Possible kidney Olympics.”

Loki rang for the nurses. One came and called another. One cleaned up, while the other patted Bruce’s shoulder and injected something into his IV port. “More diazepam. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

Bruce stared at her with huge eyes. “Susan!” He grabbed her and wrapped her in a hug. “Honey sandwiches!”

The nurse looked surprised, but she rubbed Bruce’s back in long, careful strokes. “It’s okay.”

“Your name isn’t Susan, is it?” Loki asked her. He knew Bruce had done some sort of work for the hospital’s department of nuclear medicine. There was at least a possibility….

“No. I’m Marie.” She smiled at him over Bruce’s shoulder. “Suzeman. Sorta close, I guess, but we don’t know each other.”

Loki tried to return the smile, but couldn’t. “He thinks you’re his dead aunt.”

Marie continued rubbing Bruce’s back. “Is this the first time he’s been confused today?”

Loki explained how Bruce didn’t seem to know how many seizures he’d had. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “He would never have done something like that under normal circumstances.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to hug an Avenger.”

“Technically,” said Loki in a small voice, “he isn’t an Avenger anymore.”

“He’ll always be one to me.” Marie’s hand smoothed across Bruce’s shoulders. She eased free of Bruce’s hold and stroked along his hairline for a moment. “He’s my favorite.”

Loki cleared his throat.

“Aside from you, of course. I loved you even when you were a bad guy trying to conquer the world.”

She was a silly fangirl, but at least she had good taste. “What did you give him?” Loki asked.

“It’s a sedative. It’s the same thing he had in the ambulance, except this time we were able to give it to him in his vein instead of his muscle.” Her expression turned grim as she wiped Bruce’s nose.

Loki wondered how long she had been a nurse. Surely she had seen worse things than that. “He’s been having nosebleeds,” he told her. “But now it’s just sort of runny.”

“I think it’s cerebrospinal fluid,” she said quietly. “Let’s keep his head elevated.” She continued to stroke Bruce’s face. His eyes were closed. “Our main goal right now is to stop the seizures. Then we’ll place a urinary catheter and get a spinal tap. Then an MRI.”

Bruce opened his eyes and looked at the nurse as if seeing her for the first time. The nurse held his hands. “Are you back with us?”

“I need Jen,” Bruce said to Loki. “Tony. Tony has it. The procedure requires Dracula. Now!”

“I’ll call Jen. Tony can fuck off and die.”

“We’re trying to get him to relax,” Marie reminded him.

Bruce nodded. “Tony knows about my curio. I sexted him.” He looked at Loki grimly. “Herald chimes.”

“Maybe it’s good I can’t understand you right now,” said Loki.

Bruce grabbed Loki’s hand and held him fast. “Please. Sing to your feet for isotopes.”

“I don’t understand,” Loki said, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt.

Bruce pointed to Loki, then waved dismissively at the door. He gave Loki a feeble push.

Loki stared at him, aghast. “I’m not leaving you! How could you even suggest such a thing?!”

Bruce sighed. He pointed to Loki.

“Me?”

Bruce nodded affirmatively. He pointed to his eye.

“Eye,” said Loki. As Bruce made a gesture of something shooting out of the eye, Loki was tempted to say lasers, but, instead, he said, “See?”

Bruce nodded ‘yes.’ He tapped his chest.

“You?” Loki cocked his head as Bruce repeated the gestures. “I see you?” Loki frowned as Bruce added a negative headshake before touching his eye. “I don’t see you?”

Bruce made a sweeping gesture over himself and the bed. He gave Loki another little push.

“He doesn’t want you to see him like this,” Marie said.

Bruce nodded. “Ice witch,” he told her, appreciation in his voice. “Amoeba borealis.”

Loki trembled with rage. “I am NOT a child! Stop treating me as if you must protect me from everything! This is how we got into this predicament in the first place! I have NEVER needed your protection, Bruce Banner!”

Bruce heaved a breath. “I am not a frugal centrifuge. Pinwheels.” He rolled his eyes in apparent frustration. “My world’s caught in the dead oaks—a funeral of laughs and moondust.” He leaned toward Loki with glassy eyes. “Cosmos, don’t dismember me like this.”

Loki pulled away from him. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t handle—what I should or shouldn’t see. What about what I want?!”

“AllGod.” Bruce covered his eyes with a hand. His body stiffened for a second and then his limbs twitched slightly, but the medicine seemed to be having an effect, for the seizure wasn’t as violent as the ones before it.

Marie turned on Loki. “Stop agitating him. Wait outside and let us take care of him.”

Bruce shoved his IV stand into her.

“This isn’t good for him,” Marie said, keeping the IV stand out of Bruce’s reach.

As Loki debated whether or not to turn the foolish woman into a cockroach, Bruce said hoarsely, looking at Loki. “Go, Allgod.” He waved Loki away.

“You need to respect his wishes,” said the other nurse, taking Loki by the arm.

Loki pulled his arm away from her. “Unhand me, you vile mortal!” To Bruce he said, “I’m leaving because you’ve offended me—not to honor some outrageous request. You’re a thoughtless, selfish man!”

As he stormed out of the room, Bruce’s voice followed him. “Everything! You shine without me!”

***

Loki sat by a fountain in one of the little garden spots around the hospital making calls because he had trouble getting reception inside. He had called Pepper three times without reaching her. The contact screen blurred as his eyes welled with tears. Stupid Bruce. How could his stupid scientist abandon him at a time like this?

He stared at the names miserably. One jumped out at him. Steve.

He called, feeling apprehensive. Steve answered. “Loki?”

“Hello,” said Loki in a small voice. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Is something wrong?”

“Bruce—” Loki’s voice caught. “He’s in the hospital. We’re at the hospital. They don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Despite his best efforts not to do so, he broke down in sobs. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Hang in there,” said Steve. “I’ll be right over.”

Loki sniffed. “I’ll meet you at the main entrance.”

By the time Loki walked to the main entrance, Steve was standing in the lobby waiting for him. He smiled when he saw Loki and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. To Loki’s great surprise, Steve pulled him into a hug, clapping his back in manly consolation.

When Steve pulled away, he held to Loki’s shoulders. “Even without Hulk, Bruce is strong. Whatever’s wrong, I’m sure he’ll pull through.”

Although Loki sometimes found Steve’s heartfelt optimism difficult to bear, at this moment he couldn’t have been more thankful for it. He nodded. “He is strong, isn’t he?”

“Would you like some coffee or some hot tea or something?”

Loki shrugged noncommittally.

“I could really use a cup of joe myself.”

Loki nodded his consent, and they wandered the hospital until they found a café. They walked the grounds, sipping their hot beverages, talking about non-Bruce-in-the-hospital related things. After a time, they returned to the emergency room waiting area.

Unable to indulge any longer in idle chatter, Loki told Steve about Bruce’s language difficulties. “Whatever he and Tony did, they broke him somehow,” Loki finished.

“This is a good hospital,” said Steve. “He’s in good hands.”

“They might not be able to fix it.” Loki stared down the hallway. He looked back at Steve. “But you can tell a lot from intonation—and his expressions are very readable.” Loki caressed a nail around the design on his coffee cup. “I lived with frostwolves for almost a decade once. Their entire language is intonation, expression, body movements. I’ll not only learn how to communicate with Bruce, I’ll act as his interpreter. I’ll make sure the world understands him.”

Steve stared at him with something that might have been amazement.

Loki frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…you surprise me, that’s all.”

At last, a doctor came to see Loki. She introduced herself as Dr. Savita Cheruvu and invited Loki to call her Savita. She sat in the chair beside Loki. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this before. I understand he recently underwent an experimental procedure?”

“Yes,” said Loki. “To remove the Hulk from his DNA.”

Dr. Cheruvu nodded. “I’ve assembled a team of the best doctors here and am calling others across the world for consult. So far, we don’t know what’s causing his disorder, but, in the simplest terms I can put it, his DNA is unraveling. His body isn’t making enough new cells, new enzymes, new hormones. His immune function is chaotic—his organs are failing—everything is out of control.”

Loki couldn’t say anything. He was too angry to speak.

“So,” said Steve, “what are you doing to fix this DNA problem?”

“I don’t know that we can.” Dr. Cheruvu rested a hand on Loki’s. “I know Bruce,” she said gently. “His innovations to our department of nuclear medicine helped save my daughter’s life. I’m doing everything I can for him.”

Loki swallowed. “Can I see him now?”

“Yes,” said Savita cautiously. “But he slipped into a coma during the MRI.”

Loki looked at Steve for assistance. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

Dr. Cheruvu intervened. “We were taking images of his brain to see what was happening to him. He fell asleep while we were taking pictures, but now he’s unconscious. We can’t wake him.”

“Like an Odinsleep?” Loki asked Steve.

“I don’t think so,” Steve said slowly.

“Very well. A Bannersleep,” said Loki. He turned back to the doctor. “When will he awaken?”

“I don’t know.” Her forehead creased. “This is an unprecedented illness. We don’t know how to reverse this process. We’ve moved him into the Intensive Care Unit, and we’re keeping him as comfortable as possible.”

Loki watched her face and tried to comprehend what she had told him. He wanted to shake her, to demand that she tell him better news. But he just sat there, staring at her face, and then only her mouth, because the pity in her eyes turned his blood to ice.

“We have him on dialysis because his kidneys have failed. He stopped breathing on his own. We couldn’t reach you, so we put him on a ventilator—a machine to help him breathe. If you want us to take him off—”

“You said he needs it to breathe. Why would I want you to stop it?” Loki cast a frantic glance at Steve.

“I’m sorry,” said the doctor. “Some people don’t want certain levels of life support. Does he have a living will? Or has he ever talked to you about what he would want under these circumstances?”

“He doesn’t get sick,” Loki said softly, feeling lost. He looked at Steve again. “We never talk about things like this. Do people do that? Who does that?”

Steve gave a small shrug. His glassy eyes offered only sympathy.

Loki squared his shoulders and spoke to the doctor as if marshalling his troops. “Use any machine you must. Any of them. All of them. He must be kept alive until his DNA can be restored.”

Dr. Cheruvu glanced at the polished floor before addressing Loki again. “We’ll do everything we can.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Although end of life issues are discussed in the following chapter, this is not intended to be a political or philosophical discussion or to promote one view over another. It is merely meant to show good people with good intentions having opposing viewpoints during a crisis.

A nurse offered to escort Loki to the ICU to see Bruce. She explained that he was only supposed to have one visitor at a time for no more than ten minutes, but that she would let both Loki and Steve see him together if they stayed no more than five minutes.

Loki let the nurse lead him to Bruce. Steve followed them wordlessly. Despite Steve’s silence, Loki felt thankful for his company.

The ICU was a world of dismal cloth and an ominous quiet punctuated by repetitive mechanical noises. Curtains formed walls between the patients, who lay, still and vacant as dolls, on wheeled metal beds that looked like macabre, recumbent chariots. The hospital staff moving about the cloth honeycombs spoke in low voices, even their footsteps were quiet.

Machines dominated Bruce’s curtain-enclosed cubicle. Linked to Bruce with tubes and wires, they surrounded his bed. “It looks like they’re feeding on him,” said Loki.

“Just the opposite,” Steve whispered. He stared at the various displays. The methodical artificial breathing of the ventilator filled the void in the conversation.

Loki found a bare place on Bruce’s arm and stroked it. That place and Bruce’s forehead seemed to be the only areas of skin free of plastic. Loki ran his hands through Bruce’s hair and kissed his brow. “You need to wake up now. Bruce, I want to go home,” he said softly. “It’s time to get up. We can’t celebrate the holidays like this.”

A snuffling sound drew Loki’s attention. He looked up to find Steve, turned away, wiping his face. He felt bad then for drawing the soldier into this mushroom-colored land of dying mortals divided by shrouds. Steve didn’t belong here anymore than Bruce did. Giving Bruce’s head a good-bye peck, he summoned Steve. “Let’s go to the cafeteria and buy something squishy.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said softly.

“I forgive you. I know humans cry.” He swept out of the cubicle. “I cry, myself, at times.” He squared his shoulders. “Bruce says squishy foods are comforting when you’re sad. I’ve found that to be true. Do you like sweet squishy things or salty squishy things? That’s important, because Bruce has the foolish notion that cauliflower mash or pasta are ideal foods for sadness when pudding is the obvious choice—unless ice cream is available.”

“Loki….” Steve hadn’t moved. He looked at Loki sadly.

“This is just a Bannersleep. He’s going to be fine. He’s strong. That’s what you said, remember?”

Steve stood still for a moment. Then he nodded slowly and followed Loki out to the hallway.

***

To Loki’s surprise, Natasha, Clint, Thor and Jane were gathered in the waiting area outside the ICU. Steve explained that he had called Clint on his way to the hospital.

“I’m afraid you’ve come here for nothing,” Loki told them. “He’s in a Bannersleep.”

“A coma,” Steve translated.

“Oh, no,” said Jane softly. Thor, behind her, held her shoulders in a gesture of comfort that gave Loki a strange twinge.

“Loki,” said Natasha, her eyes clear and her gaze direct. “The hospital is taking care of Bruce. We came here to support you.”

Loki wasn’t sure what to think. He was even less sure of what to say. He looked at them all in bewilderment. “This….” He hesitated. “This is a Midgardian custom?”

“Sort of,” said Steve.

Jane gave Loki a tender smile. “Yes,” she said, “people like to gather together when things are difficult like this.”

“They do in Asgard too,” Thor told her, “just not with Loki.”

“Then that’s one way Midgard is different from Asgard,” Natasha said quickly.

Before Loki could interject something, he realized that all of the eyes in front of him were no longer on him, but gazing at something behind his back. He turned and saw Pepper and Tony.

Pepper hugged him fiercely. She asked him various questions, all with concern and kindness, but Loki barely heard her. Rage flamed in his chest. He brushed her aside and grabbed Tony by the throat. “You! This is your fault!”

Steve took Loki’s shoulder, and Thor pulled him off Tony.

Tony held his throat and glared hatefully at Loki. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours. He was doing fine until you.”

“I didn’t build some hideous machine to fuck up his DNA!”

“No, you just drove him to do something dangerous, so you could play hero and make babies. If Bruce dies, Reindeer Games, it’s on no one’s head but yours.”

Loki shook Thor off him and multiplied. He threw a punch at Tony’s face but a green hand closed around his fist and pulled it to the side. His other selves fell away as he stared into She-Hulk’s face. “Jen?”

“You know Bruce wouldn’t want this,” she said quietly.

Loki forgot everyone else. “Jen, I’m so sorry. He wanted to talk to you, but he’s in a Bannersleep—a coma. I tried to wake him up, but he’s stubborn. You know how stubborn he is sometimes.”

She-Hulk held him close for a moment. She stepped back, clearing her throat, and introduced him to the tall, regal-looking woman standing like a statue at her back. Ororo Munroe, her girlfriend.

“Nice,” said Tony, as if his approval might be wanted or needed. She-Hulk cut her eyes at him. Ororo looked like she wanted to put one of her six-inch heels through the inventor’s sack. Loki liked her immediately.

Ororo took the hand Loki offered her and wrapped her own around it. “I’m sorry to meet you under such circumstances, Loki, but it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Loki explained Bruce’s condition to She-Hulk, Ororo and Pepper. He knew Tony was listening, but he didn’t give a fuck about Tony. He tried not to pay him any attention. Still, as Loki explained about the word salad, he noticed an odd expression move across Tony’s face. The inventor covered his mouth with one hand and turned away for a heartbeat. The next instant, he held his arms across his chest, his shoulders back with his usual alpha-dog arrogance, and his face complete with its ever-present ‘fuck you’ callousness. Loki must have imagined the moment of softness; Tony Stark didn’t have feelings.

Loki had just finished explaining about the machines, when She-Hulk said, “He’s on a ventilator?”

“Yes. It’s helping him breathe.”

She-Hulk held a hand across her chest and shut her eyes for a second. “Loki…. They’re going to have to turn it off.”

“He can’t breathe without it.”

“I know,” she said gently, “but Bruce never wanted to be kept alive by machines like this. He called me a couple of weeks ago wanting to draw up a living will. He said he’d been feeling ‘very mortal’ since the procedure and realized he needed to plan for a life without hulking at the first sign of danger.”

Loki frowned at her. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“He wanted to discontinue medical treatment if its sole purpose was to sustain life rather than promote healing.”

Loki’s blood froze. “If they take him off the machines, he’ll die.”

“It won’t be the withdrawal of treatment that kills him,” She-Hulk said softly. “What kills him will be the underlying cause, not you.”

“This is bullshit,” said Tony, taking an angry stride forward. He stood just behind Loki’s left shoulder. “There’s no reason to unhook him from anything yet. It’s barely been a single day.”

She-Hulk’s eyes narrowed at the inventor. “He didn’t want to be on them at all.”

“He’s staying on them,” said Loki. “I’m not about to take him off.”

She-Hulk looked at him in surprise. “You must.” She frowned at Tony. “This DNA unraveling—this makes his organs unfit for donation?”

Loki could barely contain himself. “He’s still alive! How can you talk about donating his organs!”

She-Hulk sighed. “He wanted to be an organ donor. He was excited about it.” She launched into a rather poor imitation of Bruce. “Someone in the state of New York dies every fifteen hours because they need a donated organ, Jen!” She huffed a slight laugh, but there was only grief in her face. “Organ donation hadn’t been a possibility with Hulk, but now….” She looked at Tony. “But he can’t, can he?”

“No,” said Tony.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Loki gripped She-Hulk’s arms. “Jen! Bruce loves you! How can you stand here talking about him like he’s dead! You’re his cousin!”

Tears started in She-Hulk’s eyes. “No, right now, I’m here as his attorney. I’ll have to be his cousin later.” She drew a slow breath. “You need to turn off those machines.”

“No,” said Loki. “Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll have to get a court order to do it.”

“And I’ll have a team of lawyers here within the hour ready to bury you in red tape,” said Tony.

She-Hulk scoffed. “You aren’t family. You have no rights here.”

Tony caught Loki’s shoulder. “I’ll give all of those lawyers to his husband.” He smiled grimly at Loki. “You still want an army, right?”

“Cute.” Nothing in She-Hulk’s voice or demeanor suggested amusement. “But that’s not what Bruce wanted.”

“Fuck Bruce and fuck what he wants.” Tony’s body looked stiff with anger. “Those machines stay on until I find a way to stop this.”

She-Hulk eyed the inventor with utter disdain. “You would try to make this about you.”

“I have experts from around the globe coming to work the problem,” said Tony. “I called them as soon as I found out something had gone wrong. We’ll work round the clock. We’ll fix him.”

“At the rate he’s deteriorating,” said She-Hulk, “he won’t last long enough for that to happen.”

Tony smiled mirthlessly. “So, you want to cut his time even shorter. Hulk logic at its finest.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Tony,” said She-Hulk. “You’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”

Loki took She-Hulk’s arm. “Please, give us a chance to save him. At least let us try.”

As She-Hulk looked at Loki with sympathetic eyes, Tony said, “ _Us???_ What are you going to do, Criss Angel? Saw him in half?”

Loki smoldered with anger, but he managed to stay composed. “I’ll work with your team, of course.”

“My team,” said Tony, “consists of Earth’s most brilliant minds. When I assemble a team of alien lunatics, you’ll be the first one I call.”

She-Hulk flashed Tony a withering look. “I suppose my office can lose the paperwork for three days. Hopefully, the two of you can come up with something in that time. After that, we’ll need to reassess our options.”

“He’s not helping me,” Tony said, gesturing at Loki.

“Fine,” said Loki. “I’ll work on my own. I’ll need access to all information regarding the experiment and the use of one of your labs.”

Tony blinked at him. “Uh…no. And no.”

Pepper stepped between Loki and Tony. “You’ll have access to everything you need, and Lab Two is yours.”

Tony shook his head in disgust. “I’m going to see Bruce now. And then I’m getting to work. Someone needs to find a real solution—one that doesn’t involve hobits and Quiditch.”

***

Anger drained from Tony’s body as he stood beside the hospital bed in the Intensive Care Unit. Somehow, being with Bruce and listening to the steady, mechanical breaths of the ventilator calmed him. “You’re even more machine than I am now, cumbreath.” He smoothed down Bruce’s hair fondly. “That’s not how this was supposed to happen. You always have to fuck shit up, don’t you?”

Only the machines answered.

Tony sat on the bed. He moved Bruce’s hand out of his way, pausing to frown at the hospital ID bracelet. For a second, he thought it was wrong. “That’s right. You go by your middle name. I forgot.” He draped the hand and its tubing over Bruce’s chest. “Robert. So…theoretically, you could be Bob Bruce Banner. Damn. Somebody hated the fuck out of you.”

He smiled, but no one joined him. “I’ve invited the world’s biggest nerds here to fix this. Reed should be here soon. That asshat has the sparkling personality of a wet sock, and he smells like Band-aids. And the others—fuck. It’s going to be like an inhaler convention. Those dweebs even make you seem cool. You need to stop napping and save me, man. At least teleconference in and get into a pissing contest with Reed, so he’ll stop following me around.”

He rubbed Bruce’s chest and stomach absently. “I’m going to fix you. Worst case scenario, we pop your brain into a pickle jar from Costco, and I build you a suit around it. Something like Darth Vader meets Optimus Prime, maybe, huh? I’ll get Patrick Stewart to do your voice files.

“And we’ll totally pimp it out—I’ll make you fly, give you laser eyes, a lube cannon—the whole nine yards. You could have different penis attachments. You could be a superhero again.

“So think about that. That’s the _worst_ case scenario, bro. The worst case scenario involves laser eyes and interchangeable cocks.”

But Bruce remained still, and the sounds of the machines filled the silence. Tony became conscious suddenly that his hand was on Bruce’s body. “You were right about the nightmares,” he said softly. “After you said that, I recognized the signs. I found a therapist who specializes in treating PTSD. I thought it was over, thought I’d fought it and won, but…. I had a close call when we were fighting the tar sandlions. It brought it all back. And then Loki—seeing that maniacal face of his….”

Mentioning Loki washed a cold wave of revulsion through Tony’s body. None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for Loki. He and Bruce wouldn’t have argued; Tony would have known immediately that Bruce was having problems….

“I probably shouldn’t have said some of those things the last time we talked. I was right, of course, but there were a few things you probably didn’t need to hear.” He wanted to lie down with Bruce and hold him. “And you were wrong. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you. You wanted to get rid of Hulk. I didn’t twist your arm.”

The heart monitor chirped, and the ventilator pumped its mechanical breaths.

“Yes, I wanted to get rid of Loki. I was actually hoping he would leave you once you wouldn’t be able to protect him. Thor says Odin thinks that’s why he married you, you know. Loki just wanted Hulk to protect him. He’s a fucking parasite. You’re just too love-drunk to see it.”

He stroked Bruce’s blanket. “So, yeah, in a perfect world, Loki would have been out of both of our lives for good. Then, I would have helped you find someone more appropriate. Someone I don’t want to make explode into Chiclets every time I see him.” He grinned. “See? I always had your back. I would’ve helped you replace him. New York’s probably crawling with tall Nordic men with daddy issues and flat asses.”

Bruce would have snickered at that even if he didn’t agree with it. But where Bruce would have laughed, there was nothing but the huffing of the ventilator and the cardiac cheep.

Tony sighed. “I never told you this, but when you were in hiding, sometimes I would write letters to you in my head.” He smiled at Bruce. “Things like, ‘I heard this song today; it reminded me of you, because it was so fucking lame, and it’s by this band of douchey ass-clowns. You would’ve loved the absolute fuck out of it. Not so much because you’re a gaywad, but because you’re a lame-ass gaywad.’”

He brushed the hair on Bruce’s forearm. “If we’d been smoking, ‘band of douchey ass-clowns’ would have had you on the floor quicker than a nad shot.” He leaned over and stroked the dampness beneath Bruce’s eye. Tony yelled for the nurses. “Get the doctor! He’s waking up!”

Tony stood and stretched as the nurse swept to Bruce’s bedside. The nurse quickly examined Bruce and the monitors. “What did he do?” he asked Tony.

“He’s crying,” said Tony proudly. “We go way back. He loves me, and he gets kind of emotional. He’s a big dork.”

The nurse gave Tony a pitying look, then checked Bruce’s eyes. The nurse faced Tony. “He wasn’t crying. What you saw was leakage from the eye drops we’re using to keep his eyes moist since he can’t blink.”

“He can’t blink?”

“No. The part of his brain that tells his body to blink is too damaged to function. That’s why he’s on the ventilator. His brain can’t tell his body to breathe.” The nurse started checking the IV bags. “In extended care, they put goggles on patients to help keep their eyes moist. But we’re trying to keep his face as uncluttered as possible. It makes it easier for the family to say good-bye.”

Tony stared at Bruce, his ‘uncluttered as possible’ face and its network of tubes. He turned to the nurse. “Keep up that positive attitude, Nurse Jackie.”

“My name is James,” said the nurse, scowling.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Tony. He turned and strode away, muttering, “Regeneration will have to be an important focus of our efforts.”

***

Hulk sat in a circle of beige grass with blades crisp as thistles. Ghostly flashes, like summer lightning, flickered through the darkness around him, lighting up the bare, craggy mountains and oozing black rivers of the surrounding landscape. Over his head, a circle of wan sunlight—pale and fragile as the wings of a moth—flickered like a fluorescent light in its death throes.

The remaining puppy, a white fluffball, pressed against his thigh. In his lap, Hulk held the scientist. He stared into the man’s silent face.

The boy who had held the darkness at bay had fallen. Hulk had watched the little tiger cat—an animal Hulk could not remember—put its front paws on the boy’s chest and vanish. The boy had disappeared as well, leaving the man behind. When the nightmarish creatures that lurked in the depths broke through their crumbling prisons, Hulk had pulled the scientist into the waning light and fought anything that approached them.

Now, during a moment of quiet, he gazed upon the limp body draped across his forearms. “Deadweight,” said Hulk. He sighed deeply and stood, rolling Bruce off him. Bruce hit the ground with a soft grunt.

The puppy yipped excitedly and bounded around Bruce’s prone body. But when Hulk bent down to quiet his companion, the man was gone, and the plastic Frankenstein mask stared back at him. “Little Bruce,” said Hulk. He plucked the four-year-old from the feeble grass and held him to his chest. The man, Hulk could abandon, but not this one. This was the Bruce he had sworn to protect years ago. This was the Bruce who worshipped him. This was his creator.

The demons who roamed the hellscape took many forms. Hulk had killed mutant zombie versions of Bruce’s father twice already. He hoped he would run into more; he never tired of wasting Brian Banner. But he wouldn’t let another Brian get little Bruce.

Hulk’s power to create things in the mindscape had always been limited, but he could use what Bruce had created, and he could alter it. He ripped up the pants he had been wearing—somehow, he always ended up in fucked-up pants—and manipulated them until he was able to strap the unconscious preschooler to his chest. Then, he held a hand over the puppy. It grew until its back was even with Hulk’s hip.

As the sunlight flickered out, the banshee wails of the things waiting in the dark reverberated through the mountains. Hulk snorted as he and his dogbeast set out across the lightning-lit hellscape. In a way, he preferred this chaos to Bruce’s sanitized fantasyland. Here, there were things to smash.


	16. Chapter 16

Loki paused in the middle of the cold laboratory to gather his thoughts. The walk through Stark Tower had felt like being cut by a thousand tiny blades. Pepper loved Christmas, so decorations shimmered in every corner, Christmas cheer blazed in every hall and every room.

Loki loved Christmas too. But now, the colors seemed garish; the lights seemed to mock him. How could there be any joy at all when Bruce was imperiled? How, if Bruce died, could there be any happiness ever again?

With a deep breath, he started on his work. He wasn’t upset that Tony refused to include him in the inventor’s cabal of brainiacs. He was used to being ostracized, and he was used to working alone; he worked best that way.

He analyzed the schematics of the Sarcophagus, the theories, the experiments—everything that Tony and Bruce had done that had brought them to this place. He digested all of the material as rapidly as possible, pausing only once in a while, when he could no longer resist, to mentally fondle a formula or line of code that had Bruce’s intellectual fingerprints all over it. He fought to keep these indulgences to a minimum. He had to move quickly.

***

_Two days later_

Tony stretched and left the bustle of Lab Three to clear his head. Two days of effort had yielded no useful results. Meanwhile, Bruce’s condition deteriorated further.

Tony felt like he was the only person who actually cared about that. The eggheads stinking up Lab Three with flop sweat and bluster viewed trying to cure Bruce as solving an interesting problem. Tony also found the experiment’s failure interesting, but saving Bruce’s life was more than a positive outcome. Tony wanted his friend back. He, who was often accused of being insensitive, found the callousness of the others annoying.

A strange weight hung in his chest. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his pecs, trying to relieve it. But it wasn’t physical. _This shouldn’t have happened,_ he thought. _This shouldn’t have fucking happened._

He decided to torment Loki to wake himself up. Loki had grown increasingly touchy, snapping at anyone who entered ‘his’ lab. According to JARVIS, Loki had just fallen asleep for the first time since arriving at Stark Tower. This seemed like an ideal time to fuck with him. Tony almost hoped the shithead would give him a reason to suit up. He found the lazy sorcerer asleep, sprawled over a desk of notes beside a keyboard and a nest of monitors.

“Yeah, Mr. Devotion. I want you in charge if anything ever happens to me. Asshole.” Some nameless emotion kept him from pulling Loki’s chair out from under him. It was pure curiosity, however, that caused him to look at Loki’s notes.

He expected to find some nonsense about eyes of newt and dragon fangs or maybe a song about dwarves. Instead, the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He looked at Loki in disbelief, then back at the paper in his hand. He stretched over the slumped god to access his keyboard. He brought up Loki’s last screen. It was like a dazzle of sunlight.

All this time, Bruce had vouched for Loki’s genius, and Tony had doubted it. He had assumed Bruce’s love-goggles kept him from realizing he was fucking a complete dumbass. If Loki had farted _Jingle Bells,_ Bruce would have declared the stunted Jotun a virtuoso—the man was that far gone.

Or, at least, that’s what Tony had thought. Now, as he sifted through Loki’s work, he realized that he might have actually been wrong. Loki’s knowledge of Midgardian sciences rivaled his own—and there was more here than just a display of knowledge. The sorcerer made intuitive leaps of pure genius. He didn’t simply ‘think outside the box’—he approached the world as if there were no boxes at all.

Tony stared down at Loki’s slumbering head in amazement. That obnoxious, annoying head housed a distinctly unique, agile mind. The discovery cast the way he viewed Loki in a new light. “You’re a genius,” he said softly. “An arrogant, controlling genius….” He felt a sensation often described as ‘someone walking over your grave.’ He knew his best friend had a soft spot for arrogant, controlling geniuses.

And for someone who supposedly only wanted Hulk’s protection, Loki had been trying rigorously to save Bruce—and had abandoned a couple of promising-looking possibilities because they involved bringing Hulk back. Loki wasn’t merely trying to save Bruce—he was trying to do it the way the scientist would have wanted. Those weren’t the self-serving actions of someone wanting to cower behind a monster.

Loki, all on his own, had gotten closer to a real solution than anyone in Tony’s brain trust. And he wasn’t trying to solve an interesting problem; he was fighting to save the man he loved.

Chilled, Tony realized he had more in common with the magic-wielding, Tolkien-loving, stunted frost giant than with anyone he had invited to work in Lab Three. Tony shook Loki’s shoulder. “Wake up, Games. We have work to do.”

***

Loki sipped coffee as they waited for the new simulation to run. He still didn’t understand why Tony had suddenly wanted to unite their findings and work together, but they seemed to be making progress—and that was all he cared about at this point.

Tony, cup in hand, walked up to watch the output with him. “Why didn’t you let him take that position at Cornell?”

Loki frowned at him, confused. “He decided against it. We discussed it. We drew up lists of pros and cons—”

“You wanted to stay in New York City. So you stayed.”

“I wanted to stay, but he didn’t take the position because he would have been teaching at least four days a week.”

“He gives lectures all the time.”

“You haven’t seen him when he comes home from one of those,” Loki said. “He’s fine while he’s doing it, but he’s exhausted afterward. Sometimes he seems more drained after a public speaking engagement than he is from a Hulk turn. He’s still very shy, he’s just become better at masking it.”

“I knew he was shy,” said Tony. “I didn’t realize it was still a problem for him.”

“Bruce wanted the position, but he didn’t know if he was up to it.” He couldn’t hold the bitter note from his voice. “The deciding factor, however, was that we wanted to stay close to our friends.”

He could only enjoy the uncomfortable look on Tony’s face for a second. The simulation failed. He studied the results with a scream threatening in his throat. He looked at Tony and found his own desperation mirrored in the inventor’s face.

“You were right,” Loki told him brokenly, “when you said this was my fault. I should have returned to Asgard and taken the reduced sentence. If I loved him the way I say I do, that’s what I would have done. I should have known nothing good ever comes from—” He looked down at his hands in frustration. “Trying to get what I want.” He fought the tears pressing against his eyes. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Tony heaved a sigh. “You need to see this.” He pointed Loki to one of the larger displays. “This is a video we shot right before the experiment.”

On the screen, Bruce looked at something outside the frame. “Now?” He nodded, then smiled into the camera. “Hi, baby.”

“Are you sure you want to be that cheerful?” Tony asked off-screen. “I mean, I don’t give a shit, but…” He mumbled something unintelligible.

Bruce almost laughed, but covered his mouth. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “Okay.” He glanced down. When his eyes returned to the camera, a somber veil had descended over his features. “If you’re seeing this—” He took a breath. “Then, something terrible happened with the experiment. If that’s the case….” He looked down. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered. He looked in what must have been Tony’s direction. “I can’t even imagine never seeing Loki again.”

“Do you want to stop?”

Bruce cocked his head. “No. I think the video was a good idea.”

“No, fucktard. ALL OF THIS.”

“Yeah. We’re doing it. Today. We’re fucking doing it.”

“Okay…. Fucktard.”

Bruce took a moment, cleared his throat, and faced the camera again. His eyes were dark and sweet, pools of molasses. “Loki, I’m so sorry. Don’t for a moment doubt how much I loved you. I’m capable of understanding impressively huge numbers, but my mind boggles at the vastness of my feelings for you.

“And please—don’t blame yourself for this. I wanted to try this because I’m tired of The Other Guy hurting you, and I wanted our children to be safe. But I’ve wanted this even before you. I’ve wanted it for a long time.” He glanced down. “Please forgive me. I had to try.”

He smiled, but his eyes threatened tears. “So, if you’re seeing this— Loki, don’t let my monument be your grief. You’re on a good path now. Stay on it. Continue to make a positive difference in the world. Know that you made me the happiest man on this silly planet. And…I don’t believe in an afterlife, but if there is one, baby, I’ll see you there.”

“From spaaaaace,” said Tony, off-screen.

Bruce grinned hugely as he sniffled and wiped his eyes. “You better edit that part out.”

“I’ll cut it so it’s nothing but you weeping. Maybe run the audio backward. Kinda Lynchian.”

“You’re the one who made me do this.” Bruce laughed.

“Right, because if you keel over, the last thing I’m going to need is Loki up my ass.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to keel over, because nothing’s going to go wrong. I wouldn’t try this if I didn’t think it would work. It’s going to work. We’ve had two of Earth’s most brilliant minds working on it. We’re golden.”

“It’ll work.”

Bruce stared into the camera, his face blank and open. His mouth twisted up in a smirk suddenly. He stuck out his tongue, flapped it for a second, then rolled it into a tube.

“What the fuck are you doing over there?”

“Outtakes?” He touched his tongue to the tip of his nose.

“You have a freakishly long tongue.”

“It’s not freakishly long.”

“Can you wipe your eyes with it? Like a gecko?”

As Bruce giggled, Tony squatted behind him. Tony stuck his arms beneath Bruce’s and mimed holding a cup of tea and a saucer, then a bong and a lighter. After a few minutes of silliness, culminating with an imaginary dick smacking Bruce in the face, Bruce trapped Tony’s hands and held them still. He looked over his shoulder. “We’re ready for this. Okay? Everything looks good.”

“We could wait another week, though. Run a few more tests.”

Bruce pulled Tony’s hands to his lips and gave them a small kiss. “No. We’re doing it today. We don’t need any more data.” Tony disentangled himself from Bruce, grabbed him around the neck, and sort of hung over him for a moment. Bruce leaned his head against Tony’s. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly.

“If it’s not, I’m going to drop a deuce in your urn.”

Bruce cracked up and shoved Tony off of him. He got to his feet, then walked off camera. Tony stared into the camera for a second, smooched, grabbed his cock, then walked away as well. The image froze.

Loki stared at the still image, his heart in his throat.

“See?” said Tony. “It’s not your fault. He even says so. He wanted to be free of Hulk for himself as much as for you.”

“You tried to talk him out of doing it.” Loki bit his lip to keep it from trembling. “You tried to get him to wait.”

“He wasn’t careless.” Tony sighed. “Everything did look good.”

“You love him,” Loki said softly.

Tony looked up at Loki with a ‘no shit’ expression. “Yeah.” Some darkness crept over his features.

Loki swallowed and gave in to a confessional urge. “Right before he went into a coma, I argued with him. I wanted to stay by his side, but he didn’t want me to see him like that. It pissed me off. I yelled at him. If…if he dies, my last words to him….” He couldn’t finish.

“Mine too,” said Tony with unusual frankness. He smiled bitterly. “He always wanted us to find things in common. There’s something—we’re both arrogant, self-centered dicks who can’t seem to help hurting the people we love.”

“Bruce would say that’s too harsh.”

“Bruce would. Let’s get him back.”


	17. Chapter 17

The ICU nurse led Loki to Bruce’s bed. Jen, in her Jennifer form, sat in a chair between the bed and the ventilator. She set her tablet down, stood, and hugged him. Loki hugged her back, happy that, for the moment, they weren’t enemies. “They’re letting you stay here?” he asked her.

“I convinced them he would do better with a family member present.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I can be quite convincing.” Her face turned completely serious. “Have you discovered a cure?”

Loki had imagined several silver-tongued ways to deliver this speech. In the end, he resorted to simple honesty. “The only way we can find to save him is to reunite him with Hulk’s DNA and use the Sarcophagus to reintegrate and restore the genetic integrity of the Banner form using reference material taken before the experiment.”

“Reunite him with Hulk’s DNA? You’re talking about reversing the experiment?”

“Not exactly, but in effect, yes.”

Jen shook her head in frustration. “He wouldn’t want that.”

“It’s the only way to save him.”

Staring at the floor, Jen lifted her head suddenly. “How are you planning on reuniting him with Hulk’s DNA?”

“With a transfusion of your blood.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I can’t do that. He was so happy, Loki. He sounded so happy…. He thinks of Hulk as a curse. I can’t put that back on his shoulders. I won’t do that to him.”

“You would be saving him. Just like he saved you.”

“Maybe—” She looked at Bruce with a catch in her throat. “—we should let him go. He won’t be able to save lives by donating his organs, but—he can feed the roses.”

“ _They have gone to feed the roses._ That’s from Edna St. Vincent Millay’s _Dirge Without Music_.”

Jen looked at him a little blankly, as if he were being pedantic. “If you say so.”

“I do,” said Loki. “I like that poem. It has a pleasant meter, but I didn’t understand it’s meaning until now. There’s nothing in there about accepting death—just the opposite.” He looked at Bruce. “ _More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world._ ”

“Loki—”

“Feed the roses? Fuck the roses! Fuck the roses, and fuck you!” He wanted to hit something. He wanted to cry. He paced three steps with his hands curled into fists and swung around because there wasn’t even enough room to pace properly. He turned on Jen, furious. “We met your deadline. We found a way to save him. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He wanted to be normal—”

“He wants to be with me!” Loki fought to keep his voice down. “If he could tell you what he wants, he would tell you he wants to be with me.”

“He’s getting weaker and weaker,” said Jen softly. Loki wasn’t sure anything he’d said had registered until she said, “He does love you, but he must hate living with Hulk even more. He went through with this crazy experiment knowing it might kill him.”

“That’s not true,” Loki insisted. “On this video he made before the experiment, he says he can’t imagine not seeing me again. Going through with that procedure was pure hubris. He didn’t think he could fail. That’s on the video too.”

“I don’t suppose you have a copy of it?”

“Yes.” Loki pulled out his phone. “Here.”

They watched the video together. Loki didn’t think he would cry seeing it the second time, but when tears began streaming down Jen’s face, he couldn’t help crying with her. Watching the video, where Bruce was so alive and animated, while sitting next to something that seemed merely his shell, was heart wrenching all on its own.

After it was over, they held each other for a while. At last, Jen stepped back, wiping her eyes. Loki handed her some tissues from the little cart near the bed. She pulled herself together. “He usually seems so humble; it’s hard to remember what an ego he has sometimes.”

“He’s used to being right,” said Loki. “It’s the curse of the super intelligent. You’re right so often—it’s a terrible surprise when you’re wrong.”

A quiet fell between them, the space filled by the sounds of the machines. They watched Bruce. Jen drew a deep breath. “Send me a copy of that video. If there are any legal repercussions from this, I can use it to show state of mind.”

Loki blinked at her. “So—”

“I’ll help you with the blood transfusion. I’ll help you with anything you need.” She glanced at Bruce, wiping her cheek. “Please don’t hate me,” she whispered.

***

The sounds of Loki, She-Hulk and Tony moving around medical equipment in Stark Tower’s Laboratory Five echoed throughout the large, sparsely furnished room like footfalls in a mausoleum. The transfusion had completed, so now Dr. Cheruvu, who had agreed to help them, unhooked Bruce from all of the machines. When the doctor had finished, Pepper gave Loki a quick hug, then led the doctor and Ororo outside.

Loki glanced at She-Hulk and Tony. There were just the three of them now—with Bruce. Loki carried Bruce to the Sarcophagus and laid him in the device. He sealed it and reunited with She-Hulk on the edge of the room. He held She-Hulk’s hand while Tony brought the machine online. After a rather underwhelming series of whirs and clicks, Tony looked up from his console. “It’s done.”

Loki ran toward the Sarcophagus. Tony followed him, dragging an IV stand and carrying an emergency blanket. The Sarcophagus jumped. A high-pitched scream of metal bounced off the lab’s walls.

“Loki, get away from there!” yelled Tony as his suit began assembling around him.

Loki couldn’t move. He could only watch as the Sarcophagus exploded before him. Where the device had been, the Hulk stood, snorting, amid smoking debris. He roared at Iron Man and charged.

On impulse, Loki put himself between the Hulk and Iron Man. “Stop!!!” he cried.

***

Hulk skidded a little on the polished cement floor as he stopped. A thousand suns lit a thousand skies. Rainbows and comet tails fell around him like party streamers. He exhaled butterflies. Lokiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He reached for Loki with a bellow of joy.

***

Inside their head, Bruce raced toward Hulk. He minimized the giant as he caught up to him. Grabbing the toddler-sized Hulk around the waist, Bruce hugged him to his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kissed Hulk’s head. “I love you. And I won’t give up on you. I promise. But I can’t trust you when you’re like this. I can’t. Not yet.”

As Hulk grumbled and tried to push free, Bruce stuffed him into a big backpack, crammed it into the locker that suddenly appeared, and slammed the door. He locked it quickly, then stood for a moment with his back against it.

Hulk roared and banged on the locker door. The metal dented and buckled beneath his blows, but, somehow, it held. “There’s some weed in there,” Bruce told him. “And a Crunch bar…. And…the back wall is actually a door that leads to a dog park. Puff the magic dogbeast is waiting there—and she’s still huge.” The locker went silent. “Hulk?”

“Weak, stupid Bruce?”

“If you want to go to the cherry orchard, you’ll have to cross a lagoon filled with sea monsters. Rapey, Nazi-zombie sea monsters.” He grinned to himself. “Have fun smashing.”

Bruce stepped away, preparing to leave. Across the locker door, someone had scrawled, _But the fighter still remains_ , in black marker. Bruce stared at the words and couldn’t move.

The single verse made the song explode in his head and took him to that day long ago. The smell of bourbon. The stereo playing loud enough downstairs he could feel music humming in the floor beneath his pajama-footed feet. And then the record started skipping while the man, charged by Nature to protect him, beat him mercilessly.

_…leave—_ Scratch. _…leave—_ Scratch.

He placed a guilty hand on the locker door. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” As he backed away, the “still” in the phrase jumped out at him. He had never really noticed it before.

He hadn’t summoned Hulk and left him to take the abuse alone all of those years ago. He hadn’t fled. Not completely. Hulk’s inner strength—his determination—those were Bruce’s. They always had been. Any attempt to separate Hulk from himself was as ludicrous as chopping off his hand. They were pieces of the same whole. They belonged to each other.

And someday, he would learn how to put those fractured pieces of himself back together.

***

Bruce dropped to his hands and knees, the impact with the cold cement so jarring it knocked a small groan through his lips. Loki stood before him. Bruce’s exchange with Hulk had occurred between heartbeats.

The fatigue he sometimes felt after a turn wasn’t due to anything anyone could see. The seconds he spent neutralizing Hulk—those were the things that wore him out. He struggled to rise, but couldn’t quite make it. His head swam. He sank beneath blackness.

He felt himself being turned over, felt arms around him. “Bruce,” Loki breathed in his ear. “Bruce, stay with me.”

Bruce looked into Loki’s beautiful eyes. “Always,” he whispered. He rested his head against Loki’s chest and lay in grateful silence. He heard the crinkle of an emergency blanket being folded around him.

The smell of perfume brought his head up. “Jen?” He laughed aloud as she knelt to hug him.

“Shouldn’t we get him off the floor?” asked She-Hulk. “The cold cement can’t be good for him.”

Bruce tried to help as She-Hulk hoisted him to his feet. He stood, but was still shaky. Wrapped in the emergency blanket, he stood between Loki and She-Hulk, holding to them for support. “I love you guys,” he told them softly. “I love you so much.” He nuzzled against Loki. “You can understand me, right?”

“Yes,” said Loki, kissing his ear and cheek and nose.

Bruce looked up and found Tony’s face sticking out of his suit right in front of him. “You’re welcome,” said Tony.

Bruce looked at Tony and said nothing. “I want to go home,” he told Loki.

“We’ll go home,” said Loki.

Tony thrust a plastic bag of Ringer’s lactate at Loki. “You need to set up the IV.”

“No.” Bruce made eye contact with Tony. “He doesn’t. I’m not in shock. I’m fatigued from the turn. That’s all.” To Loki he said, “Did you bring me some clothes?”

Jen sprang up. “Stay there, Loki. I’ll get it.” She retrieved a gym bag from under one of the tables and set it beside Bruce.

“We need to run some tests,” said Tony, slipping out of his suit.

“You need to beat me up?” Bruce didn’t even try to hold the resentment from his voice. “Betraying my trust and threatening Loki weren’t enough?”

“We need to check your vitals, do blood work, all of that. But I’ll be more than happy to kick your ass if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Bruce couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice.

“Really?” Tony looked genuinely surprised. “What the fuck? Your last voicemail sounded sort of friendly.”

“That’s because I thought I was dying and didn’t want you to hate yourself. But now, looking at you, I remember what a fucking dick you are.”

“Oh, yeah? Once again: You’re welcome for saving your life, asshole.”

“Right. Where are my manners? Thank you, grand and benevolent business tycoon, for so kindly letting us use the device _I_ helped you design and build. We should nominate you for Altruist of the Year. Although you’ve probably already nominated yourself and bought the fucking award.”

“Who do you think figured out how to save your ungrateful ass?”

“I did.” Bruce frowned, pulling his blanket a little tighter around his naked body. “Who do you think it was?”

“It was us,” said Loki, stroking Bruce’s forehead and sounding worried. “Tony and I. We worked together. We saved you.” He looked at Tony with a small smile. “We discovered we can work quite well together when motivated by a common cause.”

“But—” Bruce searched Loki’s face. “I solved the problem. I wrote it on my small white board.” He glared at Tony. “And I sent it to you. You’re a thoughtless control freak, but you don’t usually take credit for other people’s work.”

Tony grabbed his tablet off a table and started playing with it. He didn’t say a word.

Bruce pulled on his socks and underwear while Loki shielded him with the blanket. “You’re friends with him now? After everything he did?”

“He helped me save you,” said Loki.

“I still can’t stand him,” said Jen, smiling.

Tony grunted in amusement.

Bruce jerked on his pants. “I didn’t need saving. I told you—”

“Here, Grumpy Cat.” Tony thrust the tablet in front of Bruce’s face. “Read that. Out loud, if you don’t mind, so we can all enjoy your genius.”

Bruce frowned at the screen. “No….” He checked the timestamp and sender information.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Bruce shrank into the blanket a little. “Race the tornado over the sheep quotient for Sanskrit rehab graces all within the time serum of electric goldfish.”

“Let’s see,” said Tony, scratching his chin. “I believe you were in the middle of thanking me….”

Bruce stared at the text, wincing. “My superior temporal gyrus and Exner’s area must have been turning to jelly. Fuck, that isn’t funny.”

Tony shrugged. “Now that you’re okay, it’s hilarious.”

Bruce handed him the tablet, unable to look at him. He pulled on his shirt. “I almost died,” he said quietly. “I’m not ready to laugh about that yet.”

“It’s okay if you want to hug me,” said Tony. “I know what a big vagina you have.”

Feeling as sad as he felt punitive, Bruce could only stare at the man who had been his friend. A chill went through him. He was grateful when Loki helped him into his jacket.

Tony’s smile vanished. His face, soft only seconds before, hardened. An ironic smirk took the lost smile’s place. “And if you don’t, I really don’t give a fuck.”

Before Bruce could unleash a sarcastic response, Loki whispered in his ear, “You should check your pockets.”

Mystified, Bruce did as instructed and found a skinny slip of paper in one. He unfolded it. In Loki’s neat print, the paper read: _Hug your bro; he loves you._ Bruce shook his head and hugged Loki. “You’ve really mellowed, haven’t you?” He took the paper’s suggestion and wrapped his arms around Tony.

Tony hugged him back. For a moment, they embraced silently and tenderly. Then Tony clapped Bruce’s back awkwardly a few times and said, “Okay. That’s good, right?”

Nodding, Bruce pulled away. His throat was too tight to say anything. He was thankful when Loki grabbed him and bundled him close. Loki’s hug was as needy as it was comforting. Bruce gave him a firm squeeze. “I didn’t realize the paraphasia was so advanced,” he said as the realization dawned on him. “I thought I was leaving you with instructions. Poor Loki. You must have been so scared.”

“It’s really because of Loki that you’re here,” said Jen. “He wouldn’t let me take you off life support until he figured out how to save you.”

“Until _we_ figured out how to save you,” said Tony.

“Oh, no,” said Bruce, realizing the turmoil he had left them in. “The living will. That wasn’t even supposed to enter into this because I was savable—I left—thought I left—clear, detailed instructions for how to save me.” He bundled his cousin and husband close. “I’m so sorry. I love you both so much—I never meant to do that to you.”

Loki’s breath misted his neck. “I’m all right now. Everything’s all right now.”

“You’re going to have to take me out to lunch,” She-Hulk told Bruce.

He laughed and kissed her tear-streaked face. “Of course.” He hugged her and Loki again. He didn’t know how to let go of them. The feeling seemed mutual.

“I hate to break this up,” said Tony, “but we really do need to run those tests.”

Bruce nodded and slipped free of his family. He left them and sat at the station to conduct the tests. Tony joined him and began setting up the equipment. “I can do it,” Bruce told him.

Tony shrugged. “I can help.”

Wordlessly, Bruce continued setting up. She-Hulk walked around the lab, picking up debris from the wreckage and putting it in a pile. Loki joined her. Bruce bared an arm and tied it off. “Will you admit you were wrong about Loki?” he asked as he drew his blood.

Tony sat on the table, watching Bruce’s blood fill the tube. “I didn’t have all of the data.” He handed Bruce a new tube. “Garbage in, garbage out.” He gave Bruce the next tube when that one was full. “For a bitchy, loud-mouthed diva, he’s super intelligent.”

Bruce lifted his eyes to Tony. He reined in his tongue and cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’ve learned to appreciate his intellect.”

“Yeah, I hope that gives you a big friend boner, you Benji twat.”

“It did. A nice veiny one.”

“Awesome.”

Bruce smirked as he loaded the centrifuge.

“He’s one of us,” said Tony, looking in Loki’s direction. “He’s flawed, but he’s trying.” He cast his gaze down at Bruce. “You’ve always been able to see something good in people, even when it’s hidden.”

Bruce stared at Tony in amazement. He fumbled with his test tube, speechless.

“If we can’t go back to being friends now,” said Tony, “then we’re through. That’s as much girl-shit as I can shovel. I’m growing tits here.”

“Right, because men can’t have feelings or make apologies. That would just be weird. Civilization might collapse.”

Tony grinned. “I’m glad you’re talking sense again.”

Bruce cringed. “That was horrible. I honestly believed I left good instructions.”

“I thought it was a puzzle,” said Tony, smiling hugely. “I worked on that motherfucker for hours, man. I fucking hated your ass.” He sobered suddenly, staring at Bruce as if watching a busload of small children get hit by a train. “It wasn’t until late that afternoon that I realized—”

“Did—” Bruce struggled to keep it light. “Did you come up with anything interesting? When you thought it was a puzzle?”

Tony shrugged. “It was shit, so not really.” His eyes shone with affection. “Electric Goldfish would be a great name for a band, though.”

“Seriously? Sanskrit Rehab is the obvious choice.”

“I liked that one too.” Tony stroked his facial hair. “So, what are you gonna play in our band?”

“Keyboard.” Before Tony could say anything shitty about his desired position in their pretend band, he said, “And you’re lead guitar, right?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Bruce agreed, checking numbers.

“What about Loki?”

Bruce looked up in surprise. “Loki?”

Loki strode over. “You need something?”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “What are you going to play in our band?”

“Your band?” asked She-Hulk, joining them.

“Our pretend band,” Bruce told her, hoping he wasn’t blushing. Somehow, explaining it to his little cousin made it seem stupid. “We talk about it and uh…give it different names and argue about what instruments we’ll never play and spitball titles to songs we’ll never write. It’s actually not as pathetic as it sounds.”

She-Hulk smirked. “Middle-aged superheroes fantasizing about having a rock band. What could possibly be pathetic about that?”

“Perhaps an electric ukulele?” said Loki, apparently trying to answer Tony’s question.

“Uh. No,” said Tony. “Even if they make those, the answer’s still no.”

Before Loki could work up a fit, Bruce said, “He should sing. He has a beautiful voice.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, and the long hair and skinny ass—chicks dig that sort of thing.”

“You mean women?” said She-Hulk.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “The bitches, the snatches, the cum-catchers, the dick warmers, the vaginistas—”

“I’m going to go find Pepper,” said She-Hulk. “And give her my sympathy. And a business card in case she ever wants to slap you with a sexual harassment suit.” She kissed Loki and Bruce, then swept Tony’s hair the wrong way. “You boys shouldn’t play much longer. You know how Pepper is. As soon as she finds out it was a success, we’ll have a party. Stay here too long, and you’ll miss the fun.”

As the lab door closed, Bruce asked, “So, if you didn’t have my solution, how did you arrive at yours?”

Loki and Tony eagerly walked Bruce through their process, spontaneously taking turns, offering support to the other when needed. As they compared and contrasted various parts of their method with Bruce’s, Bruce didn’t have to wonder if Loki and Tony enjoyed the interplay as much as he did. It was obvious in their voices and body language. His husband and faux bro weren’t simply tolerating each other—they were friends.

Bruce couldn’t have been happier to be alive.


	18. Chapter 18

_The day after Christmas_

“Remember that closet that used to be here?” Tony asked Bruce as he led him through Lab Three. Pepper and Loki, off to scavenge the after-Christmas sales, had left the two of them behind.

“You mean the storage room?”

“Yeah, that little closet.”

“You realize that’s about the same size as my bedroom, right?”

Tony frowned at him. “You’re still in the closet?”

“That’s not funny.” Bruce snickered. “That’s just—” He shook his head. “What did you do to the room?”

Tony opened the door. “What about that, huh?”

Bruce walked through the room, looking stunned. He turned in the center, obviously overwhelmed. He cocked his head at Tony. “You’re getting a cat?”

“What? No! Cat? Where the fuck do you get cat?”

“So, it’s cat furniture for people?” Grinning, Bruce stretched against one of the carpeted pillars and plucked the short fibers with his nails. “Hey, this is kinda great.”

Tony stared at Bruce with mild amusement. Bruce wasn’t even stoned; he was just in perpetual maximum overdork. “It’s a creative room,” said Tony. “It’s supposed to enhance creativity by freeing you of conventional spaces and forms. That ‘cat furniture’ was designed by renowned Danish artist—” Bruce had crawled inside one of the tubes and was peering out from it at Tony with delighted eyes. Tony picked a beanbag square off the floor. “It was Pepper’s idea. Asshole.” He nailed Bruce’s forehead.

Bruce laughed and climbed on top of the tube. “It’s a good idea. This is fun. Are those monkey bars functional?”

Tony picked up a bucket of beanbags. “Stay there. I’m going to pelt you with beanbags for a while.”

Bruce grinned stupidly. “Why?”

Tony strode toward him, hurling beanbags as he went. Although Bruce tried to deflect some of them, most hit their target. The guy’s reflexes were shit. Tony stood in front of Bruce, still astride the tube and grinning down at him like some demented gargoyle. “You want to know why?” He pulled two fuzzy booties out of his pocket. “This. This is why.”

Bruce leaned over the tube to examine them more closely. “Oh, wow—”

Tony slapped him across the face with the booties. “Don’t act like this is anything but horrible.”

“Pepper made those for you?”

“This was my Christmas gift.” Tony paused. “She expects me to wear them.” He shook the booties at Bruce. “This is on you, man. This is all on you.”

“I taught her to knit—I never told her to make booties for you. I never even taught her to make booties. Or pompoms.” He giggled into a fist. “Maybe Jane—it wasn’t me.”

“Really? This reeks of you,” said Tony. “It’s some kind of organic, earth-friendly fiber and the vomity-looking red and gold are vegetable dyes.”

Bruce stroked a bootie. “Do you remember what kind of fiber? This has a wonderful texture.”

“Kuvasz, I think.”

Bruce buried his face in his arms, laughing.

“Why is that so funny?”

“It’s a breed of dog.”

Tony scowled. “A breed of— How did you know that?”

“Tony, honestly,” Bruce said, utterly sincere suddenly, “I had nothing to do with this. I only know that Kuvasz is a breed of dog because of The Other Guy. He can be pacified with puppies, so I collect them for him—images, breed stats. SHIELD actually used puppies to subdue him once—”

“I don’t care,” said Tony. He sighed, examining the hideous booties. “They don’t kill the dogs, I’m guessing. They shave them?”

“I think they just brush them. It’s the undercoat that’s spun into wool.” Bruce sat up, looking pleased. “She’s really into this sustainable movement, isn’t she?”

Tony leaned against the tube and looked down at the ugly booties in his hand. He twiddled the pompoms. “I created a new foundation.” He paused. He had started to say ‘while you were in a coma,’ but couldn’t. He almost couldn’t think about it. The incident with the eye drops had upset him more than he was able to voice. “It’s a good cause, but I just wanted another tax write-off—it’s not something I want to handle. I thought you’d have a better idea of how to distribute the funds then I would, anyway. I’d like you to take it over.”

“A Stark Change? No. Pepper’s doing a wonderful job with that—and she seems to love it.”

“Not that one.” Tony brought up the webpage on his watch. “This one.” He showed it to Bruce.

Bruce made a little wounded noise and slid off the tube.

“Feel free to change the name if you don’t like it. I just thought The Rebecca Banner Foundation had a nice ring to it. And the other part, ‘For Victims of Domestic Violence,’ I wasn’t sure about the verbiage. Is ‘victim’ politically correct?” Tony shrugged. “See? It’s a minefield. Now it’s your minefield. I’ll just throw money at it.”

“Tony….” Bruce choked up.

Tony couldn’t look at him. “It’s not like this is a gift or anything. Don’t think I’m doing you a favor, Benji. I don’t like children—they’re full of disease and ideas. And weepy breeders—I can’t think of a bigger downer.”

Bruce bit his lips together. Tears threatened in his dark eyes.

“I only named it after your mom because she was the first person who popped into my mind when I thought about victims of domestic violence.” Tony shrugged. “I guess, actually, you’re the first person—but a woman’s name sounds more sympathetic. And Bruce is kind of a shit name. And Robert Bruce Banner? What the fuck is up with that? Your name sucks like a toothless whore.”

Still, Bruce didn’t hug him. He just stared somewhere away with glassy eyes. “Apocalypse Pants,” he said finally. “An accordion.”

Tony grabbed Bruce’s shoulders. “Bruce! What do you think you’re saying?”

“Apocalypse Pants.” He sniffled. “For the band name. And I want to play the accordion.” He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to change the subject and avoid my feelings and conform to some cisgender stereotype of masculinity.”

Tony smiled a little as he looked into Bruce’s dumbfuck face. “If we both do that, Dr. Jekyll, how will we ever hug?” Somehow, Bruce missed his cue and just stood there with tears glistening in his eyes. “Idiot,” said Tony and wrapped his arms around him. “Fuck whatever I said before. I like broken, drippy-hippie Bruce, who thinks too little and loves too much.” He squeezed his friend tighter. “And who gives out hugs like every day is the Special Olympics.”

“That’s so wrong,” said Bruce, face buried against Tony’s shoulder.

“Let’s go watch _Dr. Strangelove_ and say all of the lines before the actors do like obnoxious twats.”

Bruce pulled away and nodded while wiping an eye with the side of his hand. “Okay.”

“Bruce.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop crying, bro.” Tony gave him a light punch in the chest. “You look really ugly when you cry.”

Bruce laughed, and all was as it should have been once more.

***

_New Year’s Eve_

Loki locked Daenerys’ heated coop and joined Bruce beside their apple tree. They weren’t alone. A number of other people who lived in their building were on the landscaped rooftop as well. Everyone had gathered to watch fireworks and toast the New Year.

Bruce pulled Loki close and kissed him, and, for a moment, they might have been the only ones there. They had always been very physical, but since the coma, they couldn’t get enough of each other. When walking the streets together, they paused to kiss at every corner and held hands at the lights. They fucked everywhere they could without getting into too much trouble. They had been given a second chance, and they both wanted to fill it with as much love as it could bear.

Sometimes, Loki worried that Bruce regretted being reunited with Hulk, but Bruce never said anything to that effect. Loki was glad Bruce could hulk again—he didn’t think anything bad could happen to his scientist as long as Hulk was around.

And with Bruce’s sensuous mouth sweetly dominating his, Loki doubted anything bad could ever happen to either of them at all. The world was theirs. Loki had conquered it without an army, without guile, without magic. It awaited their footsteps, shining before them like a new day glimpsed through an opening door—a new world claimed with the love of friends, with the love he and Bruce held for each other, and by a newfound appreciation for life’s fragility and preciousness.

The crowd’s happy ‘ahs’ made them turn their heads to see the lights dance in the sky. Loki dragged a chilly fingertip across Bruce’s lips. Bruce watched him with eyes quiet and dark. Loki nipped his nose. Bruce laughed. Loki licked Bruce’s eyebrows and poked his cold nose into one of Bruce’s ears. Bruce stopped the activity by grabbing Loki’s chin and eyeing him with mock sternness. But when he spoke, there was nothing but adoration in his voice. “You beautiful, mischievous creature.”

“Did you make any resolutions?”

“One. Did you?”

Loki grinned. “I made several. I’m going to make breakfast at least once a month, so you can sleep in.” He enjoyed the warmth in Bruce’s face and pressed his hands around it, as if the emotion might radiate actual heat. “And I’m going to get involved in one of your and Tony’s programs. Or I might start one of my own—like blocking the construction of those appalling luxury skyscrapers they’re building around 57th Street—the ones that will cast enormous shadows over large parts of Central Park.”

Bruce tucked a lock of Loki’s hair behind his ear. “That sounds like a good cause.”

“I’m also going to work on increasing the effectiveness and efficiency of my healing spell. I’m going to experiment with some defensive spells as well.” He leaned close to touch his nose to Bruce’s. “What about you? What’s your resolution?” He pulled back suddenly. “And don’t say you’re giving up ice cream! I love eating ice cream with you—we’ll just eat less of it. That can be your resolution—we’ll eat less ice cream, but we’ll still eat it. Maybe we can find some healthier varieties? I’ve seen some with less sugar—or we could make our own—”

Bruce trapped Loki’s hands and held them still. “It’s not about ice cream.” His playful expression turned serious. “Loki,” he said in a measured voice, “this year, I’m going to get you pregnant.”

Loki wouldn’t let himself get excited. Previously, Bruce had voiced so many misgivings about having children. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Bruce moved his hands down Loki’s body. “In fact, if you can do the spell tonight—”

“Yes—I can create a fertilization stoma—it lasts three days and—”

“Let’s do it.” Bruce grinned. “Let’s start tonight!”

Loki squeezed his scientist excitedly. And yet…. He looked Bruce in the eyes. “If you would rather wait, we can wait—”

“Why wait?” Bruce stroked Loki’s cheek. “I know none of this will be easy, but we can make it work. We’ll find a way.” He smiled. “And we’ll have our family and friends to help us. And we have each other. We’ll be okay.”

Teary-eyed, Loki pulled Bruce into a fervent kiss. Their mouths provided warm sanctuaries from the cold. Amid the rising steam of their breaths, Loki felt strangely aware that they were two different beings—tiny worlds of heat and water, clothed in flesh and orbiting about each other in cold space—joined together through this transfer of love and warmth, fused, transformed.

A terrific eruption of light and color pulled their eyes skyward. Cries of “Happy New Year!” rose up from the crowd and corks popped all over the roof. _Aulde Lang Syne_ blared from a sound system someone had set up for the occasion.

Janine, one of their neighbors, gave them two flutes of champagne and a couple of quick hugs. Bruce looked at Loki with a little sideways smile. He clinked his glass against Loki’s. “Here’s to a new year and new enterprises.”

“Here’s to you and me and whatever the future holds.”

They drank. Bruce wrapped his arms around Loki’s waist and hugged him close. “There’s a superstition that says whatever you’re doing when the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, that’s what you’ll be doing the rest of the new year.”

“With any luck,” said Loki, “that’s what we’ll be doing forever.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mandarino for inspiration, suggestions, and answers.  
> Thanks to IceNChrome and pushbuttonkitty for encouragement.  
> Thanks to KlaatuDuLak for beta reading and for being my beloved.


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